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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 months ago

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What The Future Holds Ch 2

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set pairings.

Word Count: 3628

Warnings: 18+ MDNI please! There really isn't anything to warn about in this one. We're still just getting started. But soon enough we'll be heading into the darkness together.

Author’s Note: Again, this should have been out a while ago. But it's finally done.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

<< Chapter 1 || What The Future Holds || Masterlist || Chapter 3 >>

It had been quite some time since Elijah had felt such rage at five words. Words that he had heard occasionally from female humans that didn’t have their freedom. He had also heard those words within the stories of newly turned vampires when they shared their story. It wasn’t uncommon for the female humans to be sold off as entertainment for places like Purgatory. He must have heard it more times than he could count in the last few decades alone. But none of them had caused rage to fill him like Y/N’s words had.

The rage was fueled by one thought and one thought alone. Y/N was to be the one to help restore balance to the world. If she was having visions of her being sold as a human, that meant Elijah couldn’t keep her safe. He had broken his word to several people with those five simple words.

He could easily attempt to calm the thoughts with the idea that visions were subjective and could change. That if he did everything within his power, he could prevent it from happening. There wouldn’t be a cause for concern in the grand scheme of things. But given the history he’s had with visions, he knew that idea was pointless. Visions were glimpses of the future that wouldn’t change. It would only be a matter of time before they happened.

“Elijah?”

Her voice had pulled him from his thought process. When his eyes had focused back on her, he saw the silver flecks in her eyes once more with the absence of tears. But her eyes still held the same fear he’d seen before she mentioned the vision. He took a step back from her and shook his head.

“Thank you for telling me about the vision.” He attempted to keep his voice calm, but the waves of rage were still there. “I have given my word that I would do everything I can to protect you. I will continue to do so. Don’t believe for one moment that I would turn my back on you and feed you to the wolves.”

She had mentally and physically relaxed at that. Ever since the vision had woken her up, practically screaming, she had been worried. She was worried that she had somehow failed. That maybe she had angered the Mikaelsons in some form or another that caused them to get rid of her in such a way.

Hearing Elijah reassure her that he had given his word to not just one person but several had eased the darkened thoughts that occasionally plagued her mind. If she was being honest with herself, that vision had been enough to distract her through her studies. How could she spend all that time learning when they were just going to sell her.

But if Elijah was telling her he would never do something like that, how was she still being sold to Purgatory?

“What will happen now?” She asked softly. “From my understanding, visions aren’t-”

“You’ll have to understand that I will do everything in my power to prevent it from happening.” She watched as his eyes had softened slightly. The anger she saw within them moments ago had still been there. However, it dimmed as he spoke with her. “Yes, in my experience, visions do not alter. No matter how much we try to, they don’t change.”

She looked away, trying to keep the tears at bay. She understood what he was telling her. She understood that no matter what they did to prevent her from being taken, fate was going to be a bitch about it. At some point in her life, something was going to happen where she’d end up in Purgatory.

Elijah watched her for a moment. Taking in how she attempted to force the tears away. How she wasn’t allowing herself to break down even with the information she was given. Elijah admired her even more for that. She wasn’t falling apart at the thought of a potentially failed future.

He watched as she took in a deep breath and gave him back her attention. The tears that threatened to spill were gone. Those silver specks brighter with the determination that seemed to grow within her.

“Would we be able to come up with potential escape plans for when the time arrives?” She asked.

“Of course.” An amused chuckle passed his lips as he shook his head slightly. “I have to say that I’m rather impressed with how you’ve handled this information. Others would have given up on what would be their future. But I can see the fire in your eyes. Do not let anyone try to extinguish it.”

His words had caused a smile to pull at her lips. “If I am supposed to be the one to help restore balance, I can’t just expect there not to be pushback. You’ve mentioned it a few times that there will always be the possibility of some outside force that won’t like what we are trying to accomplish. If I take the necessary precautions after a vision like that, then I know I won’t be there long and I can breathe without looking over my shoulder. Believe me, I’d like to break down at the thought of being sold. But I can break down completely and count down the days until it happens or I can attempt to take care of myself and learn something.”

Y/N hadn’t missed the way a smile pulled at the corner of Elijah’s lips. It had been a small one, but it was a smile. A win in her book considering that Elijah hardly smiled around the others. Most of the time she had met with Elijah, there were others in the room and he mostly had given the unimpressed look he wore. But it hadn’t gone unnoticed by her that when there were less people around, or his siblings were present, Elijah tended to smile more.

“And that alone is why you are meant to be the vampire in the equation.” He nodded his head. Almost as if he was confirming it for himself.

“Was there ever a choice?” She asked with a raised brow.

It was never said to Y/N how it was decided between the two on what side they would take. From the age of ten, Y/N was told she’d become a vampire when the time was right. There wasn’t a discussion on if she wanted to be one or not. Nor had there been any reevaluations over the years. Y/N had just accepted that she was to become a vampire and grew into it.

“Not so much in terms of a discussion between you and your brother.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We did not know which sibling would be on which side. But over time, along with all the lessons you’ve learned, my siblings and I agreed that you’d be the one to transition.”

“What was the deciding factor?” She asked curiously.

She couldn’t even begin to think of what it was that deemed her to be the vampire in the equation. No memories had stood out to her. She couldn’t even remember a day where the Mikaelsons were all present for such an observation.

Elijah paused for a moment. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep the information from her, she deserved to know the process. This had been her life that he had been observing and training her in some form or another.

“The day your parents took you two to the outskirts.” He began. “A test, if you will, was put into place. Freya had believed that when the time was right, it would happen on its own. That day, my siblings and I had been out there for an entirely different reason. Your parents had the two of you waiting on a bench-”

“That was when the vampires circled us.” She said remembering that particular day. Her parents had been going in and out of businesses all day. Instead of leaving them at home, they were forced to tag along and keep themselves entertained. “But they didn’t attack.”

“Because of you.” He noted. He watched as her eyes widened slightly as she took in his words. “We’d witnessed the way you stood your ground as you spoke with them. It was almost as if you were commanding them. When Alexander had attempted to step in front of you, he couldn’t hold the same stance. He put you back between them and they listened to you. You’ve never feared us. Not in the way Alexander has. That is how we knew.”

She nodded her head, processing it all. Her fingers tapped slightly on the journal she still held tightly against her. It made sense to her. Nothing he had told her made her feel like it didn’t fit. If anything it made her feel more at ease with the future she’d face.

“Thank you.” She said a moment later. She knew she didn’t need to say why she was thanking him. She was sure that he understood it all from those two words after their conversation. She was thanking him for easing her mind along with being patient with the things she didn’t understand.

Elijah simply gave a nod of his head as his response. “Send your brother in.”

It was the only dismissal she needed before she turned towards the doors. When she had her hand on the door, she heard Elijah say her name. It caused her to look back at him, with her hand still on the doorknob. There was a shift in his eyes that she couldn’t place.

“I give you my word that I’ll always help to pull you out from the darkness.” His voice held promise. “No matter how deep you find yourself within it.”

His words had brought more comfort than she thought it ever would. She knew there were going to be times where she found herself in the dark. And to know that Elijah was promising that he was going to help pull her out of it, it made her more relaxed than she felt in a long time.

She nodded her head, giving him a small smile before she opened the door and walked out.

_____

The car ride back home hadn’t been pleasant for the L/Ns. The car had been filled with the unspoken tension of the visit with Elijah. For once, it wasn’t just the parents that were silent on the ride while the twins attempted to figure out what had happened in the meeting. All four of them had been in that Study with Elijah at one point or another.

After Alexander had come out of the study, the family had left without another word. Just as Y/N had received one, her brother had a journal in his hand with a scowl on his lips. And while any other time he would have chatted away with Y/N while in the car, this time he didn’t. Any time she tried to talk to him, he gave a single worded answer or ignored her altogether.

It wasn’t until they had gotten back home and their parents had gone upstairs, arguing as they went, that Alexander finally turned towards his sister. There was irritation and anger within his eyes as he met her calm ones. Both respective gold and silver flecks swirled almost as if the flecks were challenging each other.

Y/N lifted her chin a bit as she looked at her brother. “I felt like he needed to know. You can be angry all you want, but there are some things he needs to know.”

“For once, I believed that there was something they didn’t know.” His eyes narrowed as he kept them on her. “Something that I could keep as my own burden without the vampires demanding information. And you went and told him as if it was the latest gossip.”

There were many things that two had disagreed on when it came to the deal they had with the Mikaelsons. Alexander didn’t believe that fate had somehow decided they were to be the ones to change the world. He didn’t believe the prophecy that the Mikaelsons and their parents had repeatedly told them about.

If there was one thing for certain, he hated vampires. Ever since he could remember, he hated anything to do with them. He hated that their history had been so intertwined with them. And if there was a way to rid the Earth of any and all vampires, he’d do just that. No matter the cost.

What hurt him more was how his sister went from being afraid of them to being fascinated by them. How much she was now willing to go along with the things they told her. How easily she was manipulated into believing that this prophecy was the way to save the world. Or how easily her eyes would find Elijah Mikaelson any time they all happened to be in the same room.

Every fiber of his being was telling him as much as he hated vampires now, it would only get worse the day his sister would become one. How someone could believe that the two of them could somehow restore the balance, was crazy in itself. He’d sell his soul to the Devil if there was a way to release them from the binds of any contact written by a vampire.

“I don’t know how many times I need to remind you that the Mikaelsons are on our side.” She shook her head slightly.

“Our side?” He scoffed as he turned from her and began walking down the hall. He couldn’t even begin to describe just how much he hated she believed that. “When are you going to actually wake up from this dream you've found yourself in and see the monsters in front of you?”

Y/N followed her brother knowing that even though he couldn’t look at her right now, the conversation was far from over. “Tell me, Alex. If I went to you more and talked to you about these visions, would you have opened up to me?”

He turned and looked at her once more. His jaw clenched as he did. But they both knew he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have told her anything about the details that had caused him to wake up in the middle of the night. The images he was forced to see haunted him for days and he couldn’t bring himself to believe it, not to mention talk about it with her.

“It was my information to decide if I wanted to say something or not. You had no right to tell Elijah.” The way he said the name had been filled with enough venom to make Y/N’s eyes widen slightly.

“I had every right to tell him about mine.” She shot back. “Yes I told him that I was sure you were having them as well. Because I can hear you pacing the same time I’m awoken from mine. I have no idea what yours are about because you won’t talk to me about anything that is happening!”

“Because I don’t trust you anymore!” The words had been out of his mouth before Alex could even think about what he was saying.

But it had been the truth. He couldn’t trust that Y/N wouldn’t go running to Mikaelsons the moment he had told her something. Part of him wanted to believe that she wouldn’t do it. That if he had made her promise not to say anything, she wouldn’t. But there was the other part of him that knew that it would eventually be said in some form or another.

When the words had settled over the both of them, Alexander had known he had crossed the line. He could see the hurt that grew within his sister. But the first time in months he had actually felt relief in something he had told her. Even if it was currently hurting her.

Y/N nodded her head once. It was all she could manage given what he just told her. She kept her eyes on him a little longer, before curiosity got the best of her. “How long have you been sitting with that?”

He had expected that question. “Since the day you stopped caring about our freedom.”

There was a time where both of them had wanted nothing to do with the vampires of the world. They hated every time their parents had to deal with them, the two would always plot some way to kill the vampires. And when Alexander began plotting ways for them to escape the Mikaelson’s hold, Y/N added in the bit of details that would make it better in their youthful minds.

Alexander had even promised his sister that he would do anything he could to make sure she would never become a vampire. A fear induced promise between them had been made after Alexander had heard Y/N woke up screaming from a nightmare. A promise to stake the other if they ever became a vampire.

That changed the day out in the outskirts. For once in Y/N’s life, she hadn’t been afraid of the monsters that surrounded her. Something inside of her had told her they wouldn’t hurt them if she only stood up to them. And when she did, everything had changed. Whenever her brother tried to invent ways to escape, she’d change the subject in one form or another.

Y/N shook her head. “We were never truly free to begin with. It was a fantasy created by children.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Alexander's brow raised. “You're talking as if you weren't the one that broke into tears any time the word vampire was mentioned. Or stayed hidden in her room anytime a vampire came to our door. You were the one that wanted to be told you were safe from them. What changed? Or did they compel you to no longer be afraid?”

A humorless laugh passed her lips. “I know I haven’t been compelled.”

“Who’s to say you haven’t?” He challenged the confidence in her words. “You wouldn’t know if you had or not. They would have made you forget they had.”

Her eyes looked over her brother’s face. She watched as the gold flecks darken with the annoyance growing within him. For as much as Alexander had been keeping things from her, Y/N had been keeping one important thing to herself.

The secret of hers had been the reason she was no longer afraid of the vampires within the world. Yes, she knew they were still dangerous. She knew that a vampire could easily come up and rip her heart out in a blink of an eye. But just as fate had a way to determine she was meant to be the vampire that night out in the outskirts, she also learned something about herself.

A life altering revelation that she hadn’t trusted to tell anyone else. And while some part of her wanted to share it with her family or even the Mikaelsons, she couldn’t bring herself to. If there was ever one thing that she should keep to herself, it was what she learned.

“Why did you step between me and the vampires that night?” She asked a moment later.

“Because I promised to protect you. I still want to do that. Even if you’re so invested in your role in this.” There would always be a part of him that wanted to protect her. It didn’t matter if it was to project her from the vampires that were around them or from the prophecy that had been thrown onto them.

“Then why did you step back that night?” She asked, watching his reactions. “If you were so sure you wanted to protect me, why did you step back minutes later?”

She watched as those gold flecks changed position with the several blinks he gave as he took in her question. She watched as the annoyance left his eyes and confusion replaced it. She knew his mind was racing through the details of that night looking for the answer he needed.

But whenever he tried to come up with an explanation as to why he had, he couldn’t find one. He could only remember the vampires telling him to step back and leave his sister to them. And he had done just that. Against everything within him yelling at him to stay put, he couldn’t bring himself to stay between them. And when they had told Y/N to leave with them, she stood her ground. She fought back without an ounce of fear going through her, even as she stared them down.

“We are meant to be the balance, Alex.” She said the moment realization formed on his features. The truth was there within his memories. “You say you can’t trust me with things. So here’s the truth. I told Elijah about the visions because I believed I had failed in some way based on what I’ve seen in them. What happened within them, those details will remain between myself and him for now. But the next time you want to think I can’t keep something to myself. It’s been over ten years since that night. And not another soul knows about what you’ve just pieced together.” His eyes met hers and she could almost see the apology within them, but she shook her head. “So the next time you think I can’t keep something to myself. There’s more I’ve learned over the years that no one knows about. It’s you that shouldn’t be trusted with secrets.”

<< Chapter 1 || What The Future Holds || Masterlist || Chapter 3 >>

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desiresiwant · 1 month ago

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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4.5k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, classic Niklaus resorting to violence and drinking away his problems

a/n: this is the 3rd chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). This chapter features Klaus’s pov, an insider to his struggles accepting his role as a father. Rebekah and Elijah makes their return. Davina as well. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲

𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃. From her thick curly roots, to the smeared blood currently being wiped clean from her delicate features, to the soft beatings of her heart indicating she was calmly resting. In his hand, he held an old photo of him sitting next to Vanessa. Who was clearly the girl's mother given the identical features they shared, alongside a letter explaining the situation of his existence with clear instructions to NOT come to New Orleans.

Yet the girl—Deena, as stated in the letter—came anyway. Hard-headed.

Klaus remembered Vanessa almost as if it was yesterday. He met the young aspiring witch at a local art exhibit held in The French Quarter where she first struck his interest, besides being the only who wore silly socks with a tight-fitting dress. She was not only well-spoken in art, but she had a way with words in which Klaus wouldn't notice the smile he wore until she told him, and she was her own person with a peculiar taste in fashion. And he liked it. In fact, he loved it. They hit it off quickly and spent every chance they had with each other, until one day she disappeared without a word. Klaus assumed it was because of him and didn't blame her since she was too good for his world and she deserved more than what he could provide for her.

"Impossible," Were the first words Klaus said. He tossed the photo to the floor and faced his back to Deena to slip her from his memory, to Elijah who spoke not one word until Klaus spoke first.

Elijah picked the photo from the floor and placed it on the table beside the written letter before Klaus seized a chance to rip it. "Whether it's true or not, the child needed our help and we gave that to her. Nik—"

"You expect me to believe this child is mine from a silly photo with a woman I dallied with years ago and some loveless letter of lies?" Growled Klaus. His mouth suddenly felt dry and though he did his best to put up a front, the fear in his eyes was evident and by the end of his words, panic had entered. "I am a vampire. I cannot procreate!"

Rebekah rinsed the cloth of blood in the warm water of dark red ready to be refilled and continued to clean the child's face and arms the best she could. The scent of her blood was alluring, preying them to feed into their cravings with just a taste, a single drop of her blood until there was no restraint to stop. But they have lived long enough to control their thirst, and the blood lust wasn't as appealing when the victim's a child and presumed to be a Mikaelson.

"Magic made you a vampire as us all, Nik." Rebekah pointed out. "But you were born a werewolf; it courses in your blood given by your father, so it is possible. Ludicrous but possible. And we can confirm it with your blood and hers. And a witch."

That shut Klaus up.

"The child has already been through enough, and we can't be sure of which witch we can trust until we figure out the origin of this madness. Let's not bother her anymore and hope she wakes soon." As Elijah spoke, he watched Deena intensively under his black lashes and compared her physical similarities to his little brother. Her lips. Her ears. Even her nose with a slight readjustment, accurately portrayed Klaus but there was no way to be sure without that spell Rebekah mentioned.

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "She will be fine. With my blood in her system, she's healing a lot faster than before. And I know a witch we can use; she was just here not too long ago banging on our doors to hear her out. And by the looks of it, she cares enough to do anything for her," Rinsing the last of Deena's blood into the bowl, Rebekah placed the rag on the dresser and carried the bowl into her arms to be refilled. She caught sight of Klaus's quietness, his eyes never leaving the child and added, "And if we hold this off any longer, we might as well shave our heads bald and pay ourselves a visit to the loony bin, and I don't rock a bald look. I would rather stab myself with the white oak before I plug in a bloody razor."

Rebekah left for the bathroom.

They knew exactly who Rebekah spoke of—Davina Claire, the teenage witch who wanted but nothing to do with the Mikaelsons. More specifically Klaus. After Elijah thought about the decision, he began to view Rebekah's point and agreed. However, the decision wasn't up to him.

Klaus could feel his brother's heated stare as he looked to him for answers he didn't have nor wished to answer. He stood quietly acquainted with fear more than anyone has witnessed since Mikael's invasion back in 1919. He does want the answer, but he's too prideful to ask for help and he was too afraid of the outcome.

Elijah then understood he would have to make the decision for them both and found Rebekah's gaze as she exited the bathroom with a clean bowl of warm water. "Let's do the spell."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒. Her eyes never left Klaus as she made her way down the hallway and into the spacious room, waiting for a reason to use her magic against him, until she found Deena lying unconscious on the freshly made bed in the room she had once lived in back when Marcel was around and things were a bit hectic because of her. Or at least similar. She rushed to Deena's side with a gasp.

"She will be alright," Elijah answered her panicked thoughts as she pulled back at the blood staining her hands when she reached out for her. She sent him a soft glare and carefully took Deena's hand into hers. "Will you be able to perform the spell?"

Klaus, remain quiet. The quietest he's ever been.

Davina noticed her friend appeared a lot brighter in her complexion despite her blood-stained clothes. Even noticing her cuts vividly healing before her eyes which meant she was given vampire blood, and she felt guilty. Like it was her fault for not protecting her or keeping her away from Klaus as she intended to do. And by keeping the supernatural world a secret to protect her, she felt she had done more harm than good.

"I can try but since her blood is tainted, I'll have to—"

"The blood on her clothes is pure. Can you use that instead?" Asked Rebekah.

Davina narrowed her gaze from Deena's stained clothes. It was easy magic she's done before and responded, "I'm only doing this for Deena and no one else, so don't call me here again. I don't wanna be mixed up in your family drama." Her gaze found Deena's. "And she shouldn't have to either."

"You have my word," Elijah promised.

If Klaus was in his right mind, he would've had something to say about this but for the first time in a while, he had no energy to feed into petty drama.

Because Davina knew she could trust Elijah out of all the original siblings, she began the spell. She emptied the bowl of marbles she found on the dresser and began to remove Deena's blood into the bowl leaving her shirt spotless as if it had been recently washed. She then faced Klaus. "I need your blood." She demanded.

One by one, they looked to Klaus who was currently in his own world. He didn't hear Davina but he soon felt their stares and allowed Elijah's voice to be heard as he called his name softly. Of course, he was worried for his brother. He's never failed to hide his worrisome in times like this. Klaus followed his gesture towards Davina waiting for something he had. What was it she asked for? My blood? Without wasting another second, he bit into his wrist and held it over the bowl as his blood began to mix in with Deena's. He pulled back his arm as he began to heal and waited in the far corner.

Rebekah practically hovered over Davina as she continued on with the spell and Elijah stood in the center of everyone, his eyes never leaving Klaus. About five minutes later, Davina stood from her seat indicating she was finished with the spell.

Rebekah peeled herself from the wall. "Well, is it true? Has my brother officially knocked some poor woman up against her will?"

Klaus saw the way Davina looked at Deena, the look was enough to give him the answers they longed for, but he needed to hear it from her lips. He was desperate as they all were for the answer. She sighed finally meeting Klaus's anxious gaze. "She's a hundred percent Klaus's child." Davina announced.

Klaus was shocked into silence.

Not one word has been spoken as they struggled to process nature's loophole. A child, a true Mikaelson, here in flesh by the blood and DNA of Klaus, the Original Hybrid unable to create any lifeform of the living. It was difficult to create a logical answer in their heads how any of this was possible. Klaus has slept with countless women throughout the centuries, so why is it now that it's possible for his seed to create a mortal being? What made Vanessa so special out of all?

Rebekah felt bitterness towards the situation. Though she was happy her brother has a child he could watch grow old and she has become an aunty, she knew that kind of possibility wasn't possible for her. And she desired what Klaus had—a family. From her own DNA, conceived naturally from her body, children of her own. But she was a vampire. Unlike Klaus, she could not procreate. There was no loophole for her.

However, Elijah failed to hide his glee. After years of cleaning up after his brother's retaliation, years of watching his demons mold his anger to fear that has built a wall between his misery and his own happiness; wanting nothing but the best for him and for him to let go of his grudges against the world and start letting people in, he believed this could be a chance for Klaus to start over fresh. For not only Klaus, but for himself and for Rebekah. Maybe with the child's presence, could diminish their negative ways and bring back empathy. Something they haven't felt in a while.

Klaus shuffled into the desk behind him, his tear-filled eyes never left the unconscious girl. He didn't look at her with hate or displeasure; it was a softer look that couldn't be explained in words. There was too much roaming around in his head and in his heart and in his actions, it was too much for him to process.

Davina suddenly lifted the blood-filled bowl from off the bed and placed it on the smaller dresser near the bed in case Deena moved in her slumber. She clapped her hands together, gathering their destruct attention. The awkward silence was too much for her to stand in. "If that's all, I'm leaving." She sent Deena an apologetic stare before she was already out the door.

In a flash, Davina's backside was pressed against the opened door with a hard thud. Klaus held her by the neck, seizing to scare her by his threatening presence. "What kind of trick are you playing, Davina? Do you think I can be easily fooled? Do you not fear your worthless life?" He tightened his hand as she fought out his hold. She even sank her fingers between so that she could breathe.

"I did the spell like you asked!" Davina cried out.

Elijah sped towards the abrupt commotion while Rebekah took a hesitant step forward, in an attempt to pull Klaus from off Davina before he did anything he'd regret, but his grip loosened from her neck as an enormous amount of pain surged his brain. He fell to his knees while gripping his head like a maniac. His groans of pain and her lifted hand allowed them to put together the pieces.

Davina stumbled back as she caught her breath, rubbing her now red neck, eyes frantic on the other siblings in case they were going to try her. They held their ground. "Look, Deena's my friend. And as much as I wish I had sabotaged the spell and made your lives miserable, it wouldn't be fair to her and I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. She is your daughter whether you like it or not. And if you don't believe me, fine! Find another witch who's willing to do the spell. Not that you have many to call. I'm outta here."

The pain stopped as soon as Davina left the room. Klaus fell to the floor relieved of his torment. He will have his chance to murder that witch with his own bare hands someday. For now, he was focused on regaining his consciousness.

Elijah was already at his side to help him up. "Niklaus—"

"I don't need your help!" He pushed away his brother's helping hand and stood on his own. Everyone stood in silence. Klaus took one last look at Deena and fled the room within seconds.

Elijah sighed.

"How is this possible, Elijah?" Rebekah asked, staring at the child trying to find the similarities. There were a few, the same Elijah pointed out earlier, but it was hard to believe the child was real. "Despite him being a hybrid...is—is this natural? Is she truly his offspring? And If so, can he produce more?"

"This is all new to me as it is for you, but spells cannot lie. And I trust Davina. She is a hundred percent Klaus's offspring. Now for the lather, I will have to look into that."

She stopped at his side. "But—"

"I said I will look into it," Rebekah recognized that tone and held off from asking any more questions that couldn't be easily answered. "Why don't you find the child something she can wear when she awakens? I will go find our brother and talk some sense into him."

Without a word, Rebekah sped over to where Deena's luggage sat to look for come clean clothes.

"And Rebekah?"

She glanced up with a hum.

He motioned his finger around the room. "Make sure the house is empty before she awakens. We don't need an incident to occur or a hungry vampire's blood on our hands."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm always stuck with babysitting when I can do more than that," She whined. "The child I can do, but a house of pre-war vampires? They are already a pain in the ass."

"Just get it done."

She rolled her eyes and continued to search through Deena's clothes.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 entering the bar he sat at to drain his sorrows in. It was only a matter of time before Elijah tracked him down. He never ventured out of his usual locations and his secretive spots were a work in process. Bringing up his empire took up the majority of his time having to fight through an army of vampires loyal to his dear Marcel. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to kill the boy he raised to make an example out of him, so he let him flee.

But none of that seemed to matter now that he found out he's a father.

Father.

A strange title he couldn't force himself to withhold. And instead of believing his forced reality, he decided to drink forth to a past he lived before the child was a thing. His glorious days he might call it.

"You learn of the existence of your child and yet you sit here to drink it away?" Elijah swiftly made his way toward Klaus.

Klaus placed down his 5th empty glass of whiskey and released a stressful sigh upon Elijah's disturbing question. "I do not wish to hear your nagging, brother unless you have come to join me?" With his head dangled over the glass-stained counters, he signal the waiter to pour him another glass.

Elijah then unbuttoned his jacket and ordered the waiter to serve him another round of whiskey as he took his seat next to him. They sat in silence. But knowing Elijah, he couldn't hold off the conversation any longer.

"What are you thinking, Niklaus?"

"I think of nothing. But I do think I need a stronger drink, don't you agree?" Klaus was clearly bothered by the question and ordered stronger liquor he could drown in, which meant there was something on his mind. Elijah knew what it was, but understood his tough-hearted brother needed a little push.

"Your expression tells me otherwise." He thanked the waiter who placed down his drink, and took a small sip before he continued. "Are you afraid you will become a bad father?"

"And so she has gotten to you with her puny lies? Oh, the Noble Elijah." Klaus mocked his title with a scoff. "The Elijah I knew would not be easily swayed by an amenable spell performed by the very witch who has tried to kill me more than twice and more to come in the future. A spell so that she can forge a weakness to catch me off guard when I have no weaknesses to be used!"

"And the brother I know would never be troubled with such matter if you truly believe her spell was purged." Klaus's heart thudded faster than its usual speedy pace, which Elijah heard or else he wouldn't have continued his boring speech. "No matter how you feel or what Davina's true intentions are, I do trust her and I trust she would not lie about something as great as this. Think about it, Niklaus, the girl's mother disappeared without a trace and when you asked of her to be located, the witch could not find her on any map which meant she was either cloaked or dead. A cloaking spell is only used when you want to hide from someone or you have something to hide."

"Yes, thank you, Elijah, for explaining to me the usage of a cloaking spell. Care to explain how to have a quiet drink without your brother pestering him with bogus ideas next?"

Elijah sighed. "I wish you would not joke for once."

Elijah wasn't phased when Klaus slammed his glass against the counter and faced his brother with an irritated look on his face. "Well, how else should I process this kind of information, brother? Shall we light a candle in a dark room, stare each other in the eyes, drink from goats' blood, then share our darkest fears and insecurities with one another?" He offered, humor on his tongue.

Elijah wore no smile on his face at his brother's silly offer. "I wish you would be honest with me for once and not hold up such a wall as if I am here to shame you of the very thing I want you to have—a family."

He faced the counter with the glass already at his lips. It was beginning to taste like water. "I already have a family." He boasted.

"And now you have a daughter, who is family."

The glass pressed heavily on his bottom lip when he suddenly froze. His eyes grew big hearing the D-word and family placed into the same sentence, no longer able to hold up his glass or Elijah would see his hand was shaking. Turning his head to control himself or Elijah would catch the glossy glint filling his vision. Forcing his heartbeat to slow or Elijah would detect his anxiety. A new weakness. One he kept struggling to deny.

Elijah made a good point about Vanessa because anyone who knew her knew she would never run from anything not even Klaus himself, but of course because of his nature, the thought never crossed his mind. He only assumed it was because of him, not the result of an action they both consented to.

Klaus could still feel his brother's stare. He knew that if he didn't say something now—the absolute truth behind the wall he kept gluing up—Elijah would get it out of him one way or another. And frankly, he just needed an ear to hear him out. And since Cami was not in viewpoint, he had no choice but to open up to his brother.

"Fine, you win. You want to know how I feel about becoming a father? I am petrified."

He finally faced Elijah who had been waiting all day for this exact moment to unfold, only to feel guilty for pressing the matter. But it was what he wanted, and Klaus would give him just that.

"Given the lack of fatherliness I received, I don't believe the subject is far-fetched. I mean, the girl is practically a young adult, what do I have in common with her? I have lived a self-ruled life of volition and a deep crave for violence as I rain hell upon my enemies, to suddenly become a father of a teenager in less than an hour?" He scoffed. His eyes suddenly black with anger while gulping down his drink in one sip and slammed the glass (almost breaking it) against the counter which caught a little attention. "Her mother knew of this knowledge yet she decided to keep it from me. Just wait until I track her down, she will never hear the last of me."

Elijah was finally able to understand a piece of Klaus's mind. There is potential and he was already showing it despite his crave for harming the child's mother. "You have missed her childhood; her first word, her first steps, her early years of growth and you feel guilty for that. But now you have a chance to miss no more of her development. This can be a new beginning for us all, for you, Niklaus. Maybe this isn't a bad thing."

"What if..." He swallowed hard. "What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not...good at this? Good enough? I have no experience of this sort and I don't always have the best interest of whomever I come across."

Elijah is taken back at his vulnerability and placed his hand on his shoulder as a form of comfort. "No one is ever ready for fatherhood, it just happens. But you are not alone in this, you have me and Rebekah at your side. Together we shall find a way. Always and forever." He smiled warmly.

For a moment, both brothers shared the weight of Klaus's fears. Hope sparked in his eyes and with comfort he knew his brother would always be at his side no matter the gravity of the situation and it made him feel a little less lonely. Almost happy even, until he remembered Zoeè and the silly prophecy she spoke of conjured out of ignorance, and the witches who seek to fulfill it by sacrificing Deena.

He stood to his feet with a mission written on his face. "Enough milking my sorrows, brother, I have Camille for that. Because we," While placing down his bill, "have a long list of witches to kill."

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE

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crimsonlyinglilly · 1 month ago

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No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

Here's Day 10 of @whumptober 2024, sorry late, preparing for holiday.

NEW AU Time- Adoption the wolf way- Mikael goes to far during training leaving Finn to make a choice for his little brothers survival.

Set during the time of the baby Mikaelsons (human life)

Tw- child abuse

-----

Elijah had managed to remain standing until father had left.

Finn wishes he hadn't, if he had fallen before Father left then the man would have known he had gone too far, he would have picked up Elijah and run back to Ayana to get him healed.

Instead Finn was alone with them, Klaus whimpering in the snow from something he had done to his leg during his lesson with father and Elijah limp in the snow.

Elijah’s groan calms Finn’s concern for a brief moment as he steps closer but it's as his brother shakily pushes himself up that the worry returns.

Red on white.

Blood is painfully bright on the snow and Finn kneels, ignoring the cold soaking into to his legging to get a closer look, what from a distance he had assumed was sweat darkening Elijah’s already dark hair wasn’t.

Elijah squints at him, cheeks already red from the chill of the snow, yet look pale when blood trails down his forehead to his eyebrow.

“Finn, head hurts.” Elijah mutters.

“Yes, when did you hit it?” He asks even though he knows, father’s anger at Niklaus’ latest show of weakness had led him to forget he should hold back his full strength when sparring against his eleven year old. Finn had been sure Elijah had managed to block the last hit but clearly not enough.

“Neeklaus?” Elijah asked instead of answering as Finn helped him into a sitting position, something in Finn’s mind screamed as Elijah allowed him to move him with little fight.

“Elijah i need you to-” he started

“Niklaus.” Elijah insisted looking at him with wide brown eyes.

“Klaus come here.” he shouted over his shoulder, ignoring as his volume caused Elijah to flinch

“I can’t.” came the reply in between sobs.

“Klaus-”

“My leg.” was shouted back in a high voice.

“Niklaus.” Elijah called as he started to push himself up, Finn has seen him struggle to stay sitting upright he could let him stand and risk falling and hurting himself more.

“No.” he stopped him “Elijah, stay” he ordered, “I'll get him and be right back.”

He swears himself when he gets to Niklaus and finds the issue. Niklaus wasn’t making a fuss, his ankle was swollen to at least twice its normal size, even where he had tried to cool it with the snow, likely done while father spared with Elijah.

Niklaus wasn’t walking anywhere and Elijah wasn't either, Finn would need to carry them back.

“Niklaus climb on my back.” he told him twisting in the snow, thankful when Niklaus wasted no time in throwing himself on him.

Finn was prepared so he didn’t end up in the snow from the sudden weight and only choked a little as he stood before the managed to readjust.

“Finn?” Elijah blinked as he returned to him, blinking again as the movement cause the blood to pass the eyebrow and slide down the left side of his face.

Head wounds bleed; he reminded himself to calm the almost panic, Niklaus’ gasp of horror as he saw their brother didn’t help.

“Elijah.” he answered,

“How here?” Elijah asked, setting ice into his heart.

“What?” he gasped Ayana’s voice loud in her mind with warning of confusion being a bad sign with head wounds, damage to the mind past the body.

“How here?” Elijah asked, clearly confused, looking around them slowly.

“Finn Elijah’s no-” Klaus started.

“I know,” he said, aiming ot clam Klaus with an explanation “we need to get him- both of you to a healer but Elijah is-”

“Don’t leave me.” Klaus suddenly cried in a panic cutting him off as well as tightening his arms to choke him. Finn bit back a growl .

“i‘m- not leaving you.” he choked out as he pulled at Klaus’ arm to get his air back, “You need to hold onto me and I'll carry Elijah.”

Klaus thankfully calmed down but his being co-operate was made up for when Elijah wasn’t as Finn bend down to try and lift him.

“Mh ogka.” Elijah snapped as Finn tried to pick him up, it may have been believable if it hadn’t taken Finn a moment to understand him

“Elijah.” he hissed through his teeth

“Fffinn” Elijah huffed, “fineee.”

Yet the second time he attempted it, Elijah slumped boneless in his arms with a choked whine of pain, eyes closed tightly.

“‘Lijah!” Klaus squealed in panic too loudly in Finn’s ear leading him to growl in response.

“laus.” Elijah sighed softly, reaching up to touch Niklaus’ face for a moment before his arm dropped limply back to his chest.

Finn swallowed his panic and straightened himself, leaving the training swords and everything else behind in the snow, like father had left his brothers and walked.

----

“Arm” Elijah muttered minutes later when the training area had be long left behind.

“Elijah?” he called as he stopped his attention glued to his brother, head injures could lead to sick, he didn’t want his throwing up on him or worse choking on it.

“‘Arm,” Elijah repeated, weakly struggling in his arms only to stop as the movement caused his head to hurt as he whimpered “ot, Fiinnn.” Elijah whined.

“Elijah open your eyes and look at me.” he ordered. “Elijah.” he snapped again when Elijah ignored him, shaking him slightly and ignoring the noise Klaus let out, or the tightening arms that almost choked him.

Elijah opened his eyes but looked confused as he struggled to focus on his face.

“Wha hap end?” Elijah asked before he squeezed his eyes closed.

“Elijah.” he called softly

“urts- wy?” Elijah cried, “innn ‘ake it sop, ‘ease” he begged with a pained whine as he tried to bury himself into Finn's chest, Niklaus’ cries soon joined him and Finn felt the hot tears on his neck

Finn knows they won't get home in time, not with him carrying them both, mother had warned him of the dangers of head wounds, confusion was a bad sign and Elijah was barely aware of him and he was carrying him.

Father had insisted on a long walk to their training spot this morning, likely because Niklaus had been slower when returning from their last session, he had taken them closer to the wolf’s main village than their own.

Finn remembered where it was from when mother had a friend she exchanged flowers and spell ingredients with before Niklaus’ birth, a village that size had to have a healer, even if the wolves healed they had human members that married in.

It’s Klaus shifting of his back that made his mind up and he changed their direction, they would be back tracking slightly but they would get to help sooner.

Sooner was better.

-----

“It rainins” Elijah said seemingly to himself.

Finn wished he could take the lack of pain in Elijah's voice as hope, an improvement but mother had taught him that an absence was not always a good sign.

An old thrall, one who had come across the sea with them had been in pain from his joints for as long as Finn remembered, he had never let it slow him down so Father had kept him, respected him for battling his age, had woken without pain one day and died that night.

“‘Lijah” Klaus called, loosening one of his arms from Finn’s neck to reach for Elijah, “‘Lijah it’s me Niklaus.”

“‘Ebecar com ere.” Elijah’s voice was soft, almost lost to the wind and the crunch of snow under his foot, he didn’t notice Klaus’ hand waving in his face..

Finn swallowed and smothered his anger at father, he was just dealing with losing Freya in his own way mother said.

It was easier to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing himself to move faster than to think of what father was thinking to leave him with them, to hit Elijah this hard and walk away without noticing.

“It’s bad Finn,” Klaus told him quietly in his ear, tiny face burying itself in the crook of his neck. “‘Lijah not hearing me, he never not hears me.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s not far now.” he prayed he wasn’t lying and kept walking, pulling Elijah closer to him.

Elijah had always been the thinnest out of them, even Kol the only other winter born of their siblings had been chubby as a baby compared to Elijah. It had made sense before, Elijah was born in mother’s grief for Freya but now Finn hates how fragile he feels in his arms.

—-

It took him too long, he thinks as the posts to the wolves village came into view, a shout ringing out. Elijah's insensible words had faded into faint choked noises of pain whenever Finn managed to force him to wake up to check he was still alive and Klaus' voice had died down to barely there whispers in his ear.

He knows when they're spotted as a shout goes up, it causes him to freeze as more shouts are joined by it

“I smell blood.”

“It’s just kids.”

“Get the healers!”

His body relaxes at the word heart despite himself and before he could do anything Elijah was pulled from his numb arms and the weight of Niklaus on his back was removed by the sudden crowd of adults that formed around them.

The sudden loss of his brothers left him feeling heavier, he stumbled and blinked trying to spot where they had gone but found himself surrounded by strangers.

Right, the wolves he had come here to get help.

“We got you, son.” A woman told him, before he could speak, she was older than his mother and with darker skin than her but lighter than Ayana’s, “what happened to you?”

“Training,” he told her, looking around for his brothers as he found it harder to keep himself upright, “Father went too far.” he admitted without thinking as he tripped over his own feet.

“Hey now, take a breath.” a much older man tried to cam him as he caught him, Finn found himself distracted by the greys in his hair.

“Ah they goin be Kay?” He found himself slurring, leaning into the large warm hand on his shoulder.

“You did good, got them to the best people in time.” A deep soothing voice told him and Finn nodded, “you can rest now son, we got it.”

Finn closed his eyes and everything went peaceful.

He didn't even feel it as he was swept up into the man’s arms.

—-

Finn woke up to being warm and surrounded in soft furs, it took him a moment to discover the source that had woke him.

Rebekah giggled.

“Shhh 'Bekah” Kol voice hushed.

“Come away children, your brother needs rest.” a stranger's voice scolded.

Finn blinked, when did Kol and Rebekah get here, how did they, why?

He sat up suddenly, ignoring his aching muscles as he remembered how he had gotten here, Klaus’ arms around his throat, Elijah limp in his arms.

They was a young woman sitting across the hut with a bundle in her arms. He's almost sure is Henrik, why not when the rest of his siblings were here, but he ignored that for the currently more pressing questions.

“Elijah? Niklaus?”

“Rest young man, you did well but you pushed yourself hard to get them to safety and help.”

“How are they?” he demanded, allowing Rebekah and Kol to settle on his lap suddenly thankful Father hadn't insisted on Kol joining their training he couldn't have carried all three of them.

“The younger one had his leg in a split but he'll heal well, our kind do.” The woman explained freezes slightly as she realised but she said, Finn ignored the strange phase and glared at her.

She hadn't answered about Elijah.

“The other one is being watched,” she sighed, “head injuries can be tricky. It could be weeks until he's himself again.”

“What does that mean?” he questioned trying not to show the fear in his voice, had he been to slow getting Elijah to help.

“He's confused a lot, it's not helped by waking in a strange place.” she explained “although the healer's gossip says he's a stubborn one and they keep finding him out of his place, trying to help others.”

Finn allowed himself to relax that sounded like Elijah, he always tried to escape his sick beds earlier to help.

“Is mother here?” he asked, that had to be the reason his youngest sibling were here, the wolves must have sent someone to tell her.

The woman’s reaction proved him wrong as she growled, calming just as quickly when it caused Henrik to cry.

“Hey there little one, no more big bad wolf.” she soothed the baby, although it didn’t make his want to snatch his baby brother back any less, but with his lap full he couldn’t. “Your mother-” she started before shaking her head, “neither of your parent will be allowed anywhere close to any of you.”

“Why?” he asked bewildered.

“You're part of the pack now, we look after our own.”

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elejah-wonderland · 10 months ago

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#elejah #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #alternative universe #tvd imagines #the originals au #the originals #tvd manip #elena and elijah #always & forever

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darth-nikeon · 30 days ago

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The Originals AU/headcanon where Klaus was present in Hopes life during the s3-4 jump and they were in New Orleans and Cami is alive.

Air Jail

Between the ages of two and four, Hope would every now and then engage in various shenanigans, sometimes small things like hiding things or bigger things like using magic to accidentally knock out the power of half the city. Klaus (after watching some videos on tiktok - which he knows about because Josh told Marcel about it and he mentioned it to Klaus) learns about air Jail (which is something people use on pets or small children when they've been naughty). So when Hope does something bad, he would say "That's one minute in air jail" and he would hold her in the air for one minute before putting her down.

Eventually, Hope realises that if she kicks really hard, her dad will loosen his grip (or completely let go) and give her the chance to escape air jail, so when Hope does something really bad (She hid his paint brushes - it was Kol's idea) Klaus says she'll be in air jail for two minutes, Hope goes up and starts freaking out because she's never been sentenced to two minutes in air jail before, so she kicks him really hard and goes for the door (which she manages to get to because she kicked Klaus so hard in the ribs that it hurts for almost 10 mins).

Hope (who is around 4) finds her way to Cami's flat/apartment (don't ask me how she got there, she just did). Cami opens the door and panics because there's a sobbing four year old at her door so she brings Hope inside and she explains what happened and how her dad is really mad at her (because he gave her two minutes instead of one), Cami thinks this is hilarious and is trying and failing to stifle her laugh (Hope notices and tells her that this is serious and she should stop laughing).

Eventually Hope falls asleep on the couch and Cami calls Klaus (whose been freaking out because his four year old is missing and Hayley won't let him hear the end of it if she ever found out). Klaus zooms over and puts a sleeping Hope in the car, thanks Cami and takes Hope home.

Hope wakes up and Klaus tucks her into bed and she keeps apologising and asking him not to be mad at her (she also reveals it was Kol's idea - Klaus will deal with him later). He promises he's not mad and tells her goodnight 😊

#klaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #klope #mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #the originals #the originals au #the originals headcanon #tvd #the vampire diaries

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muse-oleum · 7 months ago

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Beloved (Part I)

“She was the only woman who saw all of him—the good, the bad and the ugly—and wanted all of it. From the moment she arrived in our village, everyone else never really stood a chance. Honestly, I don’t believe anyone ever will.” OR Rebekah tells Hayley the story of the first and only woman Elijah Mikaelson has ever truly loved, and why he can never love her the way she wants him to.

Elijah Mikaelson x Witch!OC/10th century AU/Unreliable Narrator (mostly Rebekah, though)

Find it on AO3: here.

(+ so many more tags and nerding it out in the notes :) come say hi)

Hayley was sulking again, listlessly watching the fire crackle back to life as Rebekah poked at it, the scent of firewood filling the air as the flames soared higher, licking up at the blackened bricks. With a sigh, the vampire sat back into the leather armchair closest to the fireplace, occasionally prodding the heavy iron grate closer to the hearth, as if keeping the crackling embers from escaping would somehow prevent the werewolf from asking her the question she knew she wanted to ask.

Rebekah sank deeper into the comforting depths of the armchair, eyeing her companion from above the rim of her glass. The scowl on Hayley’s face was enough to indicate just what had transpired between her big brother and the young werewolf.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” she said, taking a sip of… whatever it was Nik kept around the study.

Hayley looked up, frowning. There was a world of hurt in her eyes that Rebekah knew all too well. She’d seen it time and time again in face after face. All the women who fell for her brother inevitably ended up wearing a similar expression on their face when they finally understood that Elijah would never give himself to them completely.

Honestly, had he been anyone else, Rebekah would have accused him of having serious commitment issues.

But this was her brother. Loyal to a fault, fiercely protective of those he loved, dotting uncle to his little niece. And so, as much as she’d rather be just about anywhere else right now, it was both her duty and burden to explain the situation.

Especially to this particular woman, seeing as she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and her remaining in the dark would only cause more problems in the future; both for her and for the entire family.

Rebekah sighed again, downing the rest of her drink.

“Just so you’re aware: Elijah would have my head for even broaching the subject with him, let alone with you, so if you rat me out, I’ll make Mikael look like the easter bunny.”

The corners of Hayley’s mouth twitched, threatening a smile—an all too rare occurrence these days. It dimmed almost immediately, the kind of pain only unrequited love could bring swimming in her eyes. The werewolf sighed, propping up her chin on her knees, returning her gaze to the fire.

“I just—” she closed her eyes, taking a breath and letting it out before trusting her voice again, “I thought we could be going somewhere, y’know?” She shrugged, tucking her fingers inside the sleeves of her sweater, “But he’s just so… remote. It’s like I can’t reach him, or something. Every time I try, he just… closes off.”

Rebekah poured herself another drink, taking a fortifying breath.

“He wasn’t always that way.” Seeing Hayley’s eyebrows shoot up all the way to her hairline, she scoffed. “A thousand years is a very long time, you know.” Tilting her head, she decided to rip the band aid off in one clean swipe. Better to have it over and done with as quickly as possible. “When we were human, Elijah fell in love with a woman named Svala. She was…” she took a long breath, echoes of agonized screams clawing at her mind, losing herself to old memories as she gazed down at her glass. Rebekah watched them swirl in the dark amber liquid, swallowing the lump in her throat when she realized she couldn’t quite remember her face, sharp features and laughing grey eyes tangling together in soft hues, pulling her back in time despite herself.

“She was his wife, and the love of his life.”

Present-day Virginia, c. 990 A.D.

It was just after Álfablót, during the month of Haustmánuður, that the boats arrived, narrowly escaping winter at sea. Ayana had already foretold their arrival and entire families had left the village to go greet their loved ones from the old countries. The village itself waited, the old and the young, and all those whose kin had not been onboard the boats. New homes had been built—as many as possible—and there were still logs of timber scattered around in expectation for more, covered by pine needles and leaves to keep most of the coming ice at bay.

Preparations for winter were well underway by the time the first travelers were spotted, able-bodied men and women carrying young children in their arms or on their backs, with the more travel-weary stragglers lagging behind. Only the more adventurous children seemed to have any energy left, gazing at the welcoming party with wide eyes, tugging at each other’s sleeves.

The head of the village had gone with them and there was a collective sigh of relief at his safe return. Some of the werewolves had gone too, eager to see new faces—and to warn them of what life with them would entail.

Not that it mattered. After such a long voyage, all would have been glad of a simple meal, the warmth of a fire and the comfort of family they had not seen in years.

Carrying her pack on her back, Svala looked up at the tall pine trees, so different from the wide oak trees of her home. She didn’t know what to make of them—she didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Her mother had convened with her Sisters, sensing the dangers in the new religion that had made its way to their homeland, swaying their people and changing their ways. She had come back with a haunted look, telling her to pack whatever it was she loved most, and that they were leaving. Svala had raged and raged, tears in her eyes, refusing to leave and digging her heels into the ground until her mother had all but dragged her onto the boat.

It was a great hulking beast, larger than the ships she had grown up around. It was meant for a sea voyage that would last weeks, where storms would rage and winds would blow, threatening to drown them into seas she had only ever heard about in stories. Her mother’s presence had calmed her, the hand on her shoulder heavy enough to pull her from her thoughts.

No völva would let her people drown.

It still hadn’t been enough to save her, though, and Yrsa Anundottir had died a week before they reached their destination, leaving her young daughter alone, cold, and scared in a new world she knew nothing about.

A young couple, Ulf and Asta, had taken Svala under their wing. Asta, like her mother, was a völva; and quite good at it too, though she dabbled more in incantations and less in the art of divination.

Svala had always been thankful her own powers had strayed more towards healing than the more arcane arts. She had never envied her mother’s power and, as she stood looking up at the trees in her new home, all she felt was hatred for it. Divination had brought her here, all alone, without her mother. She couldn’t help but suspect Yrsa had known all along she would not make it this far, and it only made her angrier.

A small boy tugging on her skirts distracted her from her thoughts, his wide smile and big brown eyes warming her despite the autumn winds whipping her hair around her face. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear and smiled back, waving at him. He smiled even wider and ran back to those she assumed must be his family. He tugged on the sleeve of one of the older men, whispering in his ear something that made him laugh.

He was handsome, with shoulder-length dark hair braided back from his face, revealing balanced features, most prominent of which sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jawline. She averted her eyes when she inadvertently met his own, the same warm brown as those of his… brother? Son? He was old enough that it could be both.

Svala felt the pressure of Asta’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her to a clearing where an open fire pit had been lit, casting a warm glow on the charred ground beneath it. The village leader, a well-built man called Harald whom she had grown to respect over the past few weeks, had opened the welcome feast, and she noticed that those whose families had left their homeland years ago had at long last been reunited. She smiled, dropping her pack against the trunk of a nearby tree, as she observed Ulf greet his brother Magnar, the two men embracing each other. Magnar then turned to Asta, opening his arms to her and welcoming her, and Svala felt a small twinge of jealousy.

It was petty, she knew, but she wished someone was there to greet her like that. But all she had was her small pack and the memory of her mother.

Averting her eyes to hide the sting of tears she refused to spill for a woman who had abandoned her, Svala turned back to her meagre belongings, rummaging in search of something a little warmer. Earlier this week, they’d stopped at a stream to wash and repair their clothes, and she had taken the opportunity to refresh her winter clothes, not knowing when she’d next have the chance.

Still, fall here seemed milder than at home, where the first snows had surely already fallen. She was hit by another wave of sadness and tied the strings of her pack with such vigor that she nearly snapped them, biting back tears when a small hand braced itself on the bark of the tree in front of her.

“Mother says you can leave your belongings at our home. It’s not wise to leave them about like that.”

It was the little boy from earlier, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, observing her with a far more intelligent gaze then she’d come to expect for a child his age. Their speech differed slightly from hers, but she understood him well enough, and she thought she could actually make out the slight inflections of her homeland.

“Why? Would someone steal it?”

He shook his head and bent towards her, mischief in his eyes. “No, but the landvaettir might take it and hide it inside an old tree and then we’d never see it again.”

Svala blinked, then laughed. The boy’s eyes lit up, and she had the sneaking suspicion he had been trying to cheer her up. It certainly had worked—it felt so very good to express joy again.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She whispered conspiratorially, winking at him.

Elated, the little boy ran back towards his family, who had dispersed into the throng of people gathered in the clearing. She saw him gesture wildly to the same man as earlier, caught the amused smile on his face before he started to make his way towards her. She dropped her gaze back to her pack, tying it off with one final tug and hoisting it on her shoulders.

The man was tall; taller than she’d expected. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. Instead of making her feel caged in, it made her feel safer, an odd sensation tingling up her spine.

Svala finally dared to meet his eyes, finding them darker than his brother’s but full of the same earnestness. He inclined his head towards her, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. It made him appear younger, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. She smiled back tentatively, her lips stinging, chapped raw by the wind and the salt.

Before she had even taken one step, he took her pack from her, swinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed next to nothing. The little boy grabbed her hand, tugging her along to meet the rest of their family, babbling happily about how he would take her to see the clearing tomorrow, before all the leaves had fallen and Svala couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Perhaps we should let her decide for herself what she would like to do first, little brother?”

The boy stopped, eyeing her as he would a particularly complicated puzzle, a little storm gathering in his eyes, and she knew enough of children to recognize the beginnings of a tantrum.

“I’ll be happy to come with you to the clearing, little one,” Svala said, smiling at the glee in his eyes, “on one condition.” He looked on with rapt attention, his eyes widening. She smiled wider, “I will go, but only if you tell me your name.”

She heard the man beside her huff out a laugh. The boy snuck his tongue out at him, narrowly escaping a smack upside the head as he danced around them, avoiding his brother’s hand deftly. He reminded her of a wood sprite.

“This impolite little imp is Henrik,” his brother said, giving up and tugging his little brother into his side, ruffling his hair. He turned towards her, warm brown eyes mirthful.

“I’m Elijah.”

----------------

“And that’s how they met,” Rebekah sighed, getting up to refill her glass. It was a good thing she couldn’t get drunk easily; she had a feeling she would need that tolerance as the evening wore on. “Svala charmed Henrik as soon as she stepped foot inside our village and our little brother was the way to Elijah’s heart.” She took a small sip, fingers drumming on the table. “I honestly think it was instantaneous, at least on his part. I could tell he was smitten almost immediately.”

She sighed again, leaning back against the table. Hayley was silent, staring at her—although Rebekah was ready to bet the other woman wasn’t really seeing her at all. The Original suppressed another sigh. She disliked the idea of hurting her but it was unavoidable. Hayley was young, and on the cusp of love. She deserved to be pulled from the edge before she well and truly fell for her brother, a path which only ever led to heartbreak.

“Svala’s mother had died during the crossing,” Rebekah continued, seating down on the table, “and our own mother took pity on her, I suppose. I think she could also sense Svala’s powers, which were strong even for a völva, and—”

“You used that word before, but what does it mean?” Hayley asked, straightening up and tugging the fabric of her dress around her knees, visibly shaking herself from her thoughts.

“Völur—that’s the plural form—were witches (mostly), but also sometimes warlocks, who traveled the old countries, stopping here and there to dispense their services. Another term for a völva is seiðkona—wielder of seiðr, what you’d call magic.”

“So she was a witch?”

Rebekah hummed, taking another sip. “Yes, but also something more. You see, modern-day witches seem to have largely lost their powers of divination. At least the ones I’ve met.” She shrugged. “Kol’s been to the East, I’m sure he would tell you more about ancient magical powers, if he could.” Rebekah cleared her throat, pushing away thoughts of her brother. “But in any case, a seiðkona could, under the right circumstances, predict the future with reasonable accuracy.” She paused, eyeing the werewolf. “Svala was one such witch, although we didn’t discover that until much later.”

Hayley nodded pensively. “So your family took her in?”

“Early on, yes. She stayed with us for a while, helping our mother and myself with household chores—don’t give me that look, it was like that, back then—and we grew close.” Rebekah swallowed the lump in her throat as the memories came rushing back. “I always had wanted a sister.”

----------------

“I do believe my brother fancies you,” Rebekah said as they crouched near the frozen stream, their fingers red and stinging from the cold.

“Which one? You have many,” her friend answered with an impish grin.

“Oh, stop it! You know which one!”

“Why, Rebekah,” Svala stood, batting her eyelashes innocently in her best impression of Tatia, the woman who hung on Elijah’s and Nik’s every word, “I had no idea Henrik saw me in such a way.”

That earned her a handful of freezing water to the face. Shrieking, she kicked fallen leaves at Rebekah in retaliation.

The beautiful blonde, the only sister in a large brood of brothers, had been Svala’s salvation these past few months. They were around the same age, with Svala only a few years older than Rebekah, and of vastly different temperaments. That did nothing to stop the budding friendship between them as Rebekah helped Svala navigate life in her new environment, introducing her to their neighbors and helping her to make friends. In return, Svala had taken to helping the younger woman with her chores, lending a hand where she was needed.

Esther, too, had been glad of the help, saying jokingly that she wasn’t getting any younger, and thus welcoming Svala with open arms. She suspected that the older witch would have wanted more daughters. Together with Asta and Ayana, Esther had also taken to perfecting the young witch’s understanding of seiðr, the trio easily stepping into her mother’s shoes. Of the three, Svala was most at ease with Asta, given that they shared a common past—or as common as anyone around here, anyway. Ayana scared her a little, but she rather thought her mother and her would have been fast friends. As for Esther, she remained undecided.

She was grateful to the older woman—more than grateful, really—but there was still something about her that Svala couldn’t quite shake. She wondered distractedly if she should be worried that her mother’s power had managed to make its way to her, and what it was trying to tell her if it had.

“You know perfectly well which of my brothers I was referring to.”

She did.

Elijah was still somewhat of a mystery to her. A man of few words, the only signs of his partiality came in other forms. He would help her with the more physical tasks, such as carrying buckets filled with water and snow for washing and cooking. Or he would help her skin and tan the hide of the animals the men caught on their hunts, fashioning coats and pouches from the leather. He had introduced her to his friend, the smithy, a tall, muscular man named Leif, who showed her how he made the arrowheads and knives used for hunting.

These people did not raid, although, far from the sea as they were, she supposed it wasn’t all that unusual. They appeared to trade with some neighboring settlements, although most of these were nomadic in nature. The only other village near them was the one led by the werewolves—a people Svala had only heard her mother speak about very infrequently. There were some clans in the old country, but they lived far from towns and villages in self-inflicted exile.

This was not the case here, where the two villages cohabited peacefully. There was, however, an undeniable current of fear around the full moon, when those not afflicted by the Curse would withdraw to the cave systems underneath their village, magical boundaries and wards in place, to wait out the moon. She supposed she understood the high status that Ayana and Esther seemed to enjoy. When faced with fangs and claws, seiðr was an attractive defense.

She was pulled from her musings by the feeling of a strong hand on her arm. Elijah swooped in and took the heavy bucket from her, barely straining under its weight. He gave her a gentle smile and fell into step alongside her. Rebekah, the little minx, winked at her—in full view of her brother!—and escaped up the path, grumbling about how she too could use someone to help her with her own burden. As if summoned, Nik appeared at her side, easily bracing against its weight. Svala huffed a laugh when he threw her a long suffering look over his shoulder.

“Your brother seems to never be too far from your sister,” she told Elijah quietly, laughter brightening her dark eyes.

Those eyes of hers, the color of dark stormy skies, had been an object of fascination to him ever since he had met her. They seemed almost alive, wisps of grey and brown and blue all interweaving together, one peeking through more than the others depending on the weather.

Of course, her eyes were not the only beautiful thing about her. It seemed to him that the gods had crafted this woman solely to plague his dreams. She filled his mind so completely, he had began to wonder about his sanity. On one occasion, he had heard her sing quietly to herself as she gathered wood for the fire, her long brown hair tumbling down her back, framing her petite frame and highlighting the curves of her body; and Elijah had almost believed he’d been taken in by a forest spirit.

But such stories were the ones he told his youngest brother on nights he could not sleep, and he knew better.

He did not know what love felt like; at least, not that kind of love. He knew the deep devotion he felt towards his siblings, and the lust for a warm, soft, body; but this was uncharted territory. Every time Svala was near, Elijah lost the ability to speak, unable to string more than two sentences together for fear of appearing an utter fool. His silence did not seem to bother her, so he took it as encouragement to remain just as he was, comfortable with admiring from afar.

Which was exactly what he was doing right now. Svala was eyeing him curiously, no doubt wondering what was taking him so long. Little did she know (he very much hoped) that all he wanted to do was kiss her to find out whether her lips were as soft as they appeared.

“Rebekah and Niklaus have always been very close,” he answered slowly, returning his gaze to his siblings in front of them, “it used to make Henrik quite jealous.”

“Is that why he’s so attached to you?”

Elijah chuckled. “No, Henrik is rather fickle in his affections. One week, he won’t leave me alone, the next, he’ll be glued to Kol’s side.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Although I think that’s mainly so he can learn new tricks and cause more trouble.”

Svala laughed. “Yes, he’s rather good at finding trouble.”

“Oh, I’m sure he would say trouble finds him.”

“An answer only a troublemaker would know to give,” she said, nodding sagely.

They had reached the village, passing through a denser copse of old trees, the scent of pine needles overwhelming. It was one Svala had taken time to get used to, but now that she had, it filled her with a strange sort of warmth. She wasn’t sure if she could call that feeling “belonging”, but it certainly felt close to it.

Between Rebekah’s freely given friendship, Henrik’s childlike love and Elijah’s quiet company, she had began to ease into this new life her mother had thrown her into. She still missed her home, and the wide, tall oak trees behind her homestead, but the ache was cooling, little by little.

Of the Mikealsons, only Finn and Kol remained a little aloof. The former because it was simply his personality and the latter, she suspected, was a little shy about talking to a völva. Svala wanted to tell him he had nothing to worry about: she couldn’t predict his future even if she tried, and she had no desire to do so. The topic hadn’t even been discussed by any of her three teachers yet, although she knew Asta, at least, had some knowledge of the divination arts. Ayana and Esther seemed to think it was best left alone and Svala would tend to agree, given where her own mother’s gift had led her.

Then again, she thought, chancing a glance at the man beside her to find him looking back at her with a small smile on his lips, perhaps that was not an entirely bad thing.

----------------

“They kept dancing each other for weeks,” Rebekah said, shaking her head fondly in an effort to drive away memories of her friend. “It drove Nik and I absolutely mad.”

The Original sighed, raking a hand through her blonde curls to briefly massage the back of her neck. Sitting still for so long rarely took a toll on her body anymore—she was, quite simply, too old to care—but she suspected the current topic of discussion drained her more than she’d like to admit.

Talking about Svala was forbidden. Everybody in the family knew it, and even Nik never ever dared to speak her name when Elijah was within earshot. Her death had been a blow their older brother had never recovered from and even now, nearly a millennium after he’d buried her, she would still catch him bracing himself against some pain she couldn’t see and she knew he was thinking of her.

“Their courtship was long, by our standards,” she continued, turning her back to Hayley as she refilled her glass for the umpteenth time that evening, “but that’s Elijah for you.”

“Why do you say that?” Hayley asked. “He’s always seemed like a man who makes up his mind quickly to me.”

Rebekah hummed into her glass. “Oh, his mind was made up, believe me. He was going to marry her, none of us—least of all him, at least at the unconscious level—had any doubts about that.” She turned back to her companion. “But you forget about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Eyeing her friend, the vampire sighed, looking down at her glass. “Our father.” She took a deep breath, hating that even now the man had such a hold on her as to make her afraid of speaking his name. “Mikael wasn’t a kind man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she said drily, smiling slightly at the werewolf’s quiet snort, “and he wasn’t then either. I think Elijah was afraid to bring Svala into a family with such a man at the head of it.”

Rebekah sat back into her original seat, bringing her forearms to rest on her thighs, rolling her glass between her hands. “Perhaps he was right to be worried, considering everything that happened.”

“Did Mikael hurt her?”

The Original chuckled bitterly. “Who didn’t he hurt? He hurt Nik, most of all, but he took it out on others too. Our mother never moved against him,” she bit out angrily, “and even back then, I didn’t understand why. He was strong, but she was a witch, so what was she afraid of?” She huffed. “Obviously, now, I know she was scared her little secret would come to light.”

Hayley nodded, shifting in her seat. “Klaus’ real father?”

“The leader of the neighboring village,” Rebekah answered, noting the disbelieving look the other woman shot her. “Yes, rather stupid of both of them really, but oh well.” She shook her head, willing herself to get back on track. “But no, Mikael never laid a hand on Svala. Elijah would probably not have stopped me from trying to kill him if he had.”

Hayley’s eyes grew wide. “You tried to kill your dad?”

Rebekah nodded darkly. “And I wish to god Elijah had let me finish the job.”

“That’s wild.”

“Welcome to the family, love.” Rebekah gulped down the rest of her drink, thinking that she might just have to slow down if she was going to survive waking up tomorrow. “Anyway, after a few months of tentative smiles and furtive glances, Elijah finally made the first move, to our family’s collective relief."

----------------

Midsommerblót was fast approaching and with it, the height of the summer months. Offerings for the landvaettirs had been prepared, crops stood tall or sprawled over and under the soil, birds were chirping in the tall trees and it seemed every living thing was bustling in preparation for the harvest months.

Svala herself had not been idle since the arrival of spring. With help from Elijah and Nik, as well as Leif and Ulf, she had moved into her own cottage, not too far from the Mikaelsons. It was small, but sturdy, the last of the new homes built for the newcomers.

She would miss Rebekah’s constant companionship and the easy routine she had fallen into amongst the family, but she was glad to have a space to herself. She’d never really had that before. The home she had shared with her mother was smaller than her new one, even if her youth had been spent mostly following her mother in her travels.

Besides, given the current climate in the Mikaelson home, Svala had no doubt Rebekah would end up sleeping here more often than not in the upcoming months, personal space be damned. Mikael had been in an even fouler mood than usual, and she had been glad to escape. Svala knew her friend well enough by now to know that her new home was about to become Rebekah’s new home too.

Unless her brother beat her to it.

The distance between Elijah and her was long gone, replaced by open smiles and slower touches; the kind that lingered a little too long and left her a little too breathless. As the summer solstice approached and Midsommer drew nearer, she’d began to feel the telltale pull of desire more forcefully every time he stood next to her. It grew so strong at times that she worried the others would feel it, like the current pushing her towards him. She was entirely powerless to resist it but felt no need to battle it, if only they could find themselves alone.

But, as things would have it, between moving into her new home and preparing for the festival—as well as her daily chores and Henrik’s and Rebekah’s constant demand for her attention—she had barely had any time to herself. Let alone with Elijah.

And yet, the infuriating man wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

Svala shook her head ruefully, spotting Nik down the path.

Gathering wildflowers was a task she and Nik enjoyed doing together. He always kept some tucked away for Tatia, she knew, and he’d give them to her tonight, at the feast. The others were for Rebekah, who’d just turned sixteen last week, a true child of summer.

Together, they kept an eye on Henrik, who amused himself by crafting what flowers they brought him into crowns and bouquets. Svala had a sneaking suspicion one of these was for her, but she wouldn’t ruin his joy at giving it to her tonight.

“So, has my brother finally kissed you?” Nik asked her out of the blue, just as they settled into the routine of their task.

She sputtered, her cheeks glowing red, and he had the audacity to laugh at her.

“Nik!”

“Svala!”

Speechless, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open, she rather reminded him of a fish before she burst into a fit of laughter.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said shrewdly.

Looking down at the handful of flowers in her basket, Svala pondered how best to answer him, when she felt a hand settle on her shoulder. She looked up, momentarily confused by his sudden change in attitude. Gone was the impish grin, instead, he looked very serious.

“My brother is often too noble for his own good,” he said, somewhat cryptically (and here she thought Esther was the only one with a penchant for the mysterious), “and has a tendency to let that get in the way of his happiness.” He paused, blue eyes studying her. “But he’s in love with you, of that I have no doubt, and if he lets you go because of our father, I will personally make him regret it.”

Svala smiled back tentatively, before her brain catches up. “Your father? Why? Is he… opposed to me?” She couldn’t fathom what it was she’s done to incur the man’s disapproval.

She didn’t say that she was also secretly scared of not being good enough for Elijah.

Nik shook his head, bending to pick some more flowers. “No, as a rule, I don’t believe he is but he’s a difficult man…” he hesitated, debating whether or not to share something else with her, before sighing, lowering his eyes to the ground. “He’s… violent. And unforgiving of weakness. He views love as such, and has already told Elijah off multiple times for spending too much time around you. Not that it stopped him.” He shrugged, “I think Elijah is worried about you joining our family because of how Father is.”

Svala blushed at the mention of her ‘joining’ the family.

It’s not that the thought hadn’t entered her mind since she’d met Elijah, but völvas rarely married or had children. Asta and her mother were exceptions. And Svala herself had never met her father. All her mother would tell her was that he was a good man, a Dane, powerful, and that was that. She didn’t even know his name and probably never would.

Not that it mattered now. She was an ocean away.

“Is he that bad?” she asked quietly, redirecting her thoughts to the present. She knew Mikael was a hard man, but all of the men she’s met before, save for Elijah and his brothers, were—in one way or another—hard men as well. And yet, everyone seemed to tiptoe around the Mikaelson patriarch as if he was Hel* come to drag them all down to her realm.

Nik sighed, about to speak, but suddenly froze, catching sight of something she couldn’t see. Turning around, she saw Mikael looking at them, face unreadable but eyes like thunder. He truly did look like a Viking: cold and hard, like the ice. Svala wondered if it didn’t run in his veins. Nik sighed dejectedly next to her, no doubt expecting a humiliating tongue-lashing once they got back to the village.

No, Mikael did not seem like the type of man who would be pleased to see a son of his picking flowers with a woman.

She held the man’s gaze, daring him to come forward. She may not be her mother, but she could hold her own if he tried anything. She didn’t miss the way Nik tensed as his father’s gaze shifts to her. Svala was half tempted to send a little jolt of magic through the man, but stopped herself when Nik’s hand slid into hers. Glancing at him, she took her eyes off Mikael and in the time it took for him to glance back, his father was already gone past the tree line.

“Please don’t provoke him,” he begged softly, his eyes a little frantic, “Elijah would never forgive himself if Father did something to you.”

Svala stared at him, dumbfounded. Would he dare?

Nik seemed to understand exactly what she was asking, and shook his head. She relaxed slightly, until her friend sighed again, rubbing his neck. The motion dislodged the fabric of his tunic, pushing it aside. Horrified, Svala got a glimpse of what looked like the healed marks of a lashing, scarring the flesh across his upper back. She stopped herself from rushing forward, unsure whether he meant for her to see the evidence of his father’s abuse or not.

Nik might not share his father’s disdain for weakness but that did not mean he would welcome her pity.

----------------

“After that, when she wasn’t with Elijah, Svala rarely left Nik’s side,” Rebekah whispered, staring into the fire as if she could will her friend back to life. “I don’t think she ever told either of them she’d seen his wounds, but she told me.”

Together, the two women had tried to shield her brother from Mikael’s wrath as much as possible. But neither had been able to stop her parents from doing the unthinkable: binding his brother’s wolf form, denying him all ties to the man he would have been better off being raised by.

Standing up, the Original stoked the fire, watching as the flames soar higher, losing herself to memories of another fire, in another place, a thousand years ago.

----------------

A little off to the side, Svala watched as people danced around the bonfire that stood proudly at the center of the clearing she had arrived in only months prior. It was the biggest fire she’d ever seen, stacks and stacks of wood burning high into the night. Gathered around the clearing were the elders, amongst them Ayana and Esther, who looked on fondly as the young danced.

There was one more house on the far left side to where Svala stood and the ground was now littered with old pine needles and wildflowers. She could hardly believe it had almost been a year since her arrival in the village. So much had changed since then: the harsh bite of the cold winds was a distant memory, her loneliness was gone, and she hadn’t missed the sea for a few weeks now. There were still times were homesickness would find her, creeping into her heart when she least expected it, but those were growing few and far between.

The man largely responsible for such a change stood on the other side of the clearing, Rebekah by his side, her hair braided prettily in the style Svala knew she liked. Kol and Nik were arguing with each other, but judging by the fondly exasperated expression on Elijah’s face, it wasn’t anything she needed to worry about.

Her own hair was swept back from her temples in two braids, barely strong enough to contain the rest of her mane as it swept down her back. Svala rarely wore it down, preferring the tightly braided style some of the shieldmaidens had worn back home. It was practical, but Midsommer was not about being practical. It was about revelry and fun, partaking in the joys of summer and enjoying the fruits of a year’s worth of hard work.

She’d even worn her best dress, the one her mother had sewn for her back home, during one of those cold winter nights that felt like a lifetime ago. Yrsa had always been partial to green, for herself, as it highlighted her red hair, but red had always been Svala’s color, bringing out the color of her eyes and the warmer tones in her hair. But the pigments for red dye were expensive, even when supplemented with wild berries, and so this dress had only ever been meant to be worn on special occasions. Svala thought her first Midsommerblót in her new home was a rather good time to try it on.

She giggled when Henrik ran up to her, tugging Rebekah with him, and dragged them both to the center of the clearing, where the warmth of the fire was almost unbearable, to dance. The little boy spun around them in a circle, tugging at their skirts until Svala caught him, tickling him mercilessly. He shrieked with laughter, trying to escape her and drawing the attention of his older brothers. Absorbed as she was by her revenge, Svala completely missed the look of complete adoration that overtook Elijah’s face, but Rebekah certainly did not.

She hoped someone would look at her like that too, one day.

Bending down to swoop her little brother up into her arms, Rebekah tugged at Svala’s hand, drawing the older girl into the wide circles of the dance, turning around each other in turn as Henrik clung to her, tucked between them. Laughing, Svala came to a stop, her cheeks red from exertion, and disappeared briefly, coming back with two cups of ale. The beverage was more than welcome, a relief against the heat. Henrik clamored for a sip and Svala had all the trouble in the world keeping him off, her eyes widening playfully as she downed the rest of her cup, taunting him.

“That’s not fair!” Henrik whined, kicking his little legs, “I wanted some too!”

“Not just yet, little one” Svala said, swooping him up to let Rebekah enjoy her own drink in peace, “but there’s some very tasty berry juice over there.”

The bribe worked, as it always did on children. Pacified, Henrik allowed himself to be led to the large oak tables, bending under the weight of the harvest. While Svala poured him a cup of fresh juice, Rebekah saw her older brother approach and, in a moment of uncharacteristic generosity of spirit, whisked Henrik away from the couple the first chance she got.

Passing by Elijah, Henrik nearly thwarted her plan when he reached for him. Knowing her brother was powerless to refuse him, Rebekah twirled around on herself, laughing and drawing a giggle from the child, effectively distracting him from their older brother’s presence. She made her way to another table, sitting herself and Henrik down to let him pilfer the entire platter of wild berries, stuffing them into his mouth as fast as a squirrel, his eyes growing bigger by the second as he looked at the sudden influx of people dancing around the bonfire.

It seemed like the entire village had collectively decided to join in, couples dancing together and wider circles of people skipping together hand in hand, their chants joining the music, growing louder and louder. Had she not been familiar with Midsommer and its merrymaking, Svala would have thought herself addled by the ale. Eyeing her cup, she shrugged and took another drink, closing her eyes.

The thing she liked the most about Midsommerblót was the music and dancing. Everyone was happy, indulging in the warmth of the summer months, enjoying the fact that it would last for some more still before the return of the cold.

Autumns here were less colorful than in the old country. The pines did not shed their leaves and so they never turned into the bright yellows, oranges and reds Svala had known all her life, but the evergreens held a certain beauty to them. It was mostly noticeable in the winter, when everything else was dead and still, they held on.

The one tree she always found herself drawn to, no matter the season, was the one standing tall behind the fire, its branches sweeping over the clearing, full of the green of summer.

The villagers called it “white oak”, for the light finish of its wood when harvested, and it was magnificent. Svala thought it must have been the oldest tree here, allowed to grow into itself as the clearing was cleared of other trees some centuries ago. In the fall, its leaves turned as bright as the trees of her old home, and she never felt homesick in its presence.

Lost in thought, she jumped slightly when she felt the press of a strong hand at her back, relaxing almost immediately when a deep chuckle sounded from just behind her.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”

She turned her head to the side, watching under thick lashes as Elijah’s profile came into view, his high cheekbones highlighted by the glow of the fire. Where they were standing, by the tables, its warmth was more distant, but the shiver that tingled down her spine had nothing to do with the chill. She felt the weight of his hand where it still was, pressed into her back, between her shoulder blades.

His eyes turned to her, taking her in.

Svala had always been beautiful, but tonight, in her red dress, her cheeks warmed by more than just drink, she was even more so. Her grey eyes sparkled when she looked up at him, shimmering in the low light. They were tender, excruciatingly so, wide and open. He felt like he could lose himself to her and it would still feel like home.

She caught her breath, noticing the way his hand slipped lower, pulling her closer until her back rested against his chest. She could still hear the music, but the sound was drowned out by the feeling of his hand caressing down her back, settling on her waist. She was pulled more firmly against him, a possessive touch to the way his fingers dug into her side.

Slowly, Svala finished her drink, setting it down on the table beside her. Seeing that everyone else’s attention was taken up by the feast, she allowed herself to rest against Elijah’s chest, his warmth a comforting presence against her back. Her head came to rest just above his heart. If she focused hard enough, she could feel its beat against her ear. It was steady; as steady as the man it belonged to, and she knew, in that moment, that she was the one who held it.

She felt his chin touch her hair, in a kiss or just resting there, she wasn’t sure. She simply savored the moment—the first one they’d shared since he had helped her down from the newly finished roof her house, preventing her from falling and catching her in his arms.

His arm snaked around her, ensnaring her, his finger splayed on her hip, close to where their bodies touched. She felt that pull again, the same one she always felt when he was near, begging her to bring him closer still, until it felt like she was going to meld herself to him.

Turning in his grasp, Svala brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles. Elijah’s breath hitched above her and when she looked up, all she saw before his lips claimed hers was the devotion shining in his eyes.

----------------

“I was looking right at them,” Rebekah said, the mischievous look only a younger sibling could have written all over her face. “I never told Svala, but I couldn’t resist telling Elijah. I never saw him blush harder.” She laughed, shaking her head fondly. “Mostly, we were relieved he’d finally done it; their little courtship was exhausting to watch, honestly.”

The Original looked back at Hayley, eyeing the werewolf. She was calmer, now, less jittery, and more focused on Rebekah. She honestly was’t sure if it was because of her stellar storytelling, or because the other woman was desperate for any morsel of anything related to Elijah. She couldn’t fault her for that; she knew her brother was a hard man to forget, even when it was for the best.

She heard the telltale whoosh of another vampiric presence even before Hayley did, hybrid senses and all.

“I do believe your squeal managed to gather everybody’s attention, sister mine.”

Rolling her eyes, Rebekah looked over at her tyrant of an older brother, busy pouring himself a drink, and nearly snorted at the way Hayley’s own eyes rolled almost all the way back into her skull.

“Thankfully, by this point, everyone was too far gone to see what was really going on,” Klaus said, the twinkle in his eye almost fond as he looked back at her, “but, alas, I wasn’t.”

“Oh yes, because you were never one to indulge.”

Her annoying twat of a brother eyed the drink in her hand meaningfully—her sixth of the evening, she believed. Rebekah shrugged, and he softened. Of all of them, herself and Elijah excepted, Nik had been closest with Svala. She didn’t think her brother would have joined in on their conversation willingly—in fact, she rather thought he would have ran from it.

He did love to surprise her.

“You see, Little Wolf,” he said, the moniker falling easily from his lips, “our brother as he is today, noble to a fault and—if you squint—nearly caring, is revolting enough, but Elijah back then…” he shivered, “now that was positively nauseating.”

----------------

Elijah’s hand cushioned the back of her head against the wood behind her, his grasp there gentle even as his mouth did sinful things to hers, gliding against her lips, teasing her. He’d backed her against the side of house, away from the gathering, when neither of them had been able to contain themselves anymore.

As soon as they had been in relative privacy, Elijah had crusher her to him, framing her face with his much larger hands and kissed her with an urgency Svala had not thought him capable of.

She could not have been more wrong.

His hands were all over her, sweeping over her stomach up to her breasts, and all the way into her hair, tangling in the long strands, bringing her face closer still, his kiss growing more desperate. All it had taken was for her to arch into him, drawing the length of her body against his, for him to press her against the wooden wall, a low moan escaping him.

The tether between them was vibrating, the need to possess and be possessed urging them closer until all they could feel was each other. Her brows furrowed and Svala made a small sound of protest when Elijah pulled away, his breathing ragged against the side of her face. She felt the weight of his hips against hers, the evidence of his desire pressing deliciously on her stomach.

Feeling bold, she let her hands wonder, sweeping over his lean hips and around to pull him towards her, arching into him when he let out another low sound of pleasure. He settled into her embrace, letting her caress up and down his back, the touch more calming than it was meant to arouse and yet managing both at the same time.

She was so small, compared to him, he felt like he could pull her into his arms and no one would ever be able to harm her.

Svala nibbled at his jaw, letting her head fall back to allow him to press slow kisses all along her neck. Breathing in her scent, Elijah let himself fall deeper into her arms, resting most of his much larger weight against her, but she never made a single sound of protest.

They were both breathing more calmly now, letting the heat of their bodies cool before he did something unforgivable and made love to her for the first time right up against her house. Elijah would not let himself go enough to allow for anything else than absolute perfection whenever they did decide on sharing this moment together.

Kissing her collarbone one last time, it took all of his willpower to pull away from her. Svala allowed it, dropping her arms from around his neck until they rested against his sides. He smirked when he realized that she was just as unwilling to part from him completely.

Elijah let himself feel up her body once more, lingering on her soft breasts until he heard her breathing speed up again, and he knew that if she kissed him again, he would forget his resolve and drop to his knees in front of her, hide under her dress and make her forget any other name but his.

The thought alone was the sweetest torture.

For now, he felt contented enough to breath in her scent, pine needles and smoke mixed with the flowers she’d picked this morning, his thoughts turned to a future they would share together.

#the originals #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x female oc #original female character #vikings #10th century AU #the originals AU #tvd AU #(i guess?)#unreliable narrator

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printcharms · 2 months ago

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amikaelsonstory · 3 months ago

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Chapter III is coming tomorrow guys, and if I can say anything in advance, it's going to be messy ;)

#ao3 fanfic #mikaelson #the originals fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #vampire fanfiction #mikaelsongifs #tvd fanfiction #tvd fic #smut #tvd smut #the originals imagine #the originals rp #the originals x reader #tvd universe #the originals au

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thewheelofrp · 8 months ago

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"Little mouse... what part of this sounds like an option?"

#open rp #indie rp #open starter #niklaus mikaelson #haunting adeline au #the originals au #tw: psychopath #tw: non con #tw: blood

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elejahfanfic · 2 years ago

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kalijah_

@beautyandwords

#kalijah #katerina petrova #elijah mikealson #au #poster #TVD Poster #the originals au

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nightingale2004 · 6 months ago

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The Originals next generation: Elijah's version

Nicolette Ragna Mikaelson

Faceclaim: Alexa Demie

First daughter of Elijah Mikaelson

Mother unknown (Elijah has an idea but is a bit unsure)

Nicolette and her cousin Adreena are besties

Her father calls her Nicole for short while her cousins call her Nick or Nicky

Nicky liked to think she keeps a cool head like her father, but in truth, her father's aggressive side is more dominant

She is a ✨️fashion icon ✨️ and always manages to look good in any situation

Hates when blood gets on her clothes

She is a Dhampir (half human half vampire)

She knows how to play piano and even makes up her own songs when inspiration strikes

She plays her original pieces ONLY for her family

She helps Adreena take care of the family

She is a ride or die for her family

Like her father, she would give everything she has so her family would be safe and happy

Will not hesitate to snap a neck for her cousins

She scares her younger cousins a lot

She is a "bit" of a diva (when I say a bit, I mean........SHE IS A DIVA)

She throws a mean punch and God-fearing slap

Throws the legendary balls and parties

÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×

Aleksandra Faith Mikaelson

Faceclaim: Camila Mendes

Aleksandra is the second daughter of Elijah and the younger sister of Nicolette

Unlike her older sister, Aleksandra is calm one and has inherited more of Elijah's calm and calculative side

Everyone calls her Aleks or Sandra for short

Aleks, Nicky, and Audrey prefer themselves as the leaders and matriarchs of the family

Aleksandra is a heretic

Like her older sister, she too is a ✨️fashion icon ✨️

Has a great respect for Hailey

She and her sister Nicky are very overprotective of their dad, and they make sure to keep tabs on the women he sees

When she gets angry, then nowhere is safe

Elijah made sure that both his daughters never lost sight of their self-worth or value in the world (with his sisters help, of course)

She and Adreena feel like the mothers out of their cousins

Loves hearing her sister play piano

Aleks plays the violin

She and Nicky often do duets together

Believe it or not, but she and a few of her cousins get a headache from trying to make sense of their family tree

Loves going on walks and doing street violin performances in the streets of New Orleans

Loves traveling

She, Nicky, and Clara meet up a lot for tea and gossip

Aleks helps out at the Salvatore boarding school

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littlebosleepmusings · 1 year ago

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(gif credit: @steverobin)

In Memoriam // Hunted (Prologue)

warnings: none

The street's a liar

I'm gonna lure you into the dark

My cold desire

To hear the boom, boom, boom of your heart

The danger is I'm dangerous

And I might just tear you apart

Oh, ah, oh

I'm gonna catch ya

I'm gonna get ya, get ya

Oh, ah, oh I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh

You're my kill of the night

an undisclosed amount of time from now, sometime in the possibly near and/or certain future…

Lizzie 1. Inter-dimensional Demonic being 0. Maybe all those springs doing cross-country weren’t completely pointless after all. One more turn of a corner, and she’s finally put some distance between them. With all this running down the halls of the high school, she just wishes she wore running shoes that weren’t as pinched at the toes.

Something that looks like a man, but isn’t a man is hot on her tail and they aren’t letting her get away so easily, without a fight.

Another mad dash around a corner, when she suddenly bumps into a heavy, solid figure. For a second, she thought she was screwed, but she’s relieved to find it’s just you.

…

“Oh hey Mrs M,” the teenage girl says, between winded breaths, as you hold onto one another for balance.

“Lizzie.” You’re out of breath yourself, having just taken care of this guy’s friend.

“Right behind me,” she blurts out, just as the humanoid, figure materializes and reveals it’s hideous, inhuman face. Before letting out one of the loudest, death rattling scream you’ve ever heard.

You quickly, push her aside so you can take care of it.

“Got it.”

Without wasting any time, you whip out your blade and drive it straight through them. Watching as they explode into a cloud of ghastly, black smoke.

Your favourite part about the hunt. Watching their physical form disintegrate when you send them back to Hell. Least favourite is probably the sulphur smell.

“Nice one, Mrs. M.” Lizzie lowers her arms from her face, as you realize she’s on the floor. She nearly gags from the smell.

“Come on,” you say offering her your hand, before pulling her up with ease.

“One more down. Only a thousand or so to go.”

You know she’s exaggerating, but you can’t help but grimace. “God, I hope not.” You’re growing tired of the constant threats on your life and the town as of late. At the same exact time, Hope and Josie appear around the corner of the school.

“All good, guys?” The way Hope still looks at you, even now. Like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Yeah,” you say, sheathing your weapon back in its holster. Smoothing a hand over her hair, you smile at the young girl.

Lizzie starts brushing off her clothes. “Being bait and unable to defend yourself is literally the worst thing. Outfit’s ruined,” she adds.

“At least you were cute bait.” Josie attempts to cheer up her sister.

“Thanks sis...But seriously? I mean we can siphon a demon, but our magic is useless against them. Who comes up with this crap? There should be someone downstairs we can talk to about this.”

Hope and Josie exchange amused glances.

“Alright ladies.” You begin directing them back toward where you all came.

“Let’s get back to the school before anyone notices you’re gone. I don’t want your dad laying into me again.”

Lizzie folds her arms. “Ugh, who cares? He complains about everything.”

“I follow his rules, out of respect for Caroline and the two of you. Plus, I made her a promise…”

“You didn’t follow his rules tonight,” Josie reminds you, with a devilish smirk.

“No, I didn’t,” you admit. “But it was an emergency. I’ll follow em, next time.” You pat Jos on the back in a teasing manner, as the four of you start walking toward the exit.

"Maybe text him at least, to let him know you aren’t dead," you add.

If you know Alaric as well as you think you do, you know he’s likely noticed something was up by now. Your eyes fall to Hope up ahead, chatting with the other two girls.

Call it a parent’s intuition.

#the originals fanfiction #the originals au #the original family #the originals #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader

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desiresiwant · 4 months ago

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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, a pretty much tamed 1st chapter…for now

a/n: this is the 1st chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

MASTERLIST | NEXT ->

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲 | 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗢𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒.

It wasn't how Deena imagined it to be the moment she stepped off the smelly bus onto the gravel sidewalk, with a packed bag hung across her shoulder and an old black suitcase covered in band stickers she used to listen to years ago.

She came a long way from Le Havre, France. Spent about seventeen hours on a plane and another two hours riding two buses to get here, stuck next to an annoying older woman spilling her lifelong secrets.

The sunny sky was touched with a gloom and many buildings looked as if they came out of the 1700s in American films with a modern touch to fit today's society. There were many interesting stores that had caught Deena's eye as she traveled down the sidewalk with no plan in mind. She enjoyed the urban touch of the city through the people and how together they were which was much different back home. Also, it was very much diverse compared to the small area she lived in.

She felt comfortable. At home.

Off the side of a group of friends passing through, Deena pulled out a picture of her beautiful mother in the arms of a man that's to be her father—Klaus Mikaelson.

Her mother was happy in this picture. They both were. In a black shirt hanging off her shoulders, ripped tights under a pair of shorts, smiling at the camera with a drink in her hand and her curly hair almost taking up half the photo. The man—her father, Klaus—sat leaned into her mother, kissing her ear with an arm thrown around her waist. He wore a basic leather jacket with dark blue jeans. Dirty blond hair, dark blue-greenish eyes, and a killer smile. The table in front of them covered in empty red cups and half-filled liquor bottles. They were both young, in college, and in love.

"I want to find him," Deena said to herself in a soft voice. "I need to find Klaus Mikaelson."

But the problem was if Deena ever found her father, she didn't know what she would tell him. She practiced what to say when meeting him, but it was all gibberish and uncompleted sentences that made no sense. She feared a lot of things about her father; him being married with kids and she would come into his perfect life and ruin the happiness he made for himself, no knowledge of his other child he had created across the globe. Or he was a dead-beat with nothing going for his life. Or he has long passed away.

But whatever truth lies in his life, she just wanted to see him. From afar, if needed. To see how he lived. And if he cared enough to know that the woman he met in this very city before she moved to France years ago, was now dead. But she selfishly wanted him to know that she existed.

...if she knew where he was. Or where to start.

The city was so big, nevertheless the state and because Deena wasn't from around—this was her second time ever in America—it was difficult for her to navigate or read the English signs she never learned. But she grew hungry and entered the nearest restaurant.

"Hey, welcome in! Take a seat anywhere," Greeted the waiter, passing by with both hands filled.

Most tables were filled as Deena searched for an empty spot.

Sensing the panicked teenager, the waiter stood before Deena after she finished serving a table. "Must be your first time here, so welcome. Just join a table with someone, anyone, but choose wisely; some people can talk more than they chew." She was picking at the older customer sitting at the counter who obviously heard what she said and sent her a squinted look with pursed lips. "That's the motto of the restaurant; To Meet A Stranger Along The Way. Eating alone doesn't mean you have to be alone. So sit anywhere and I or another waiter will be with you soon."

Deena sent the nice lady a smile. "I understand, thank you."

She pulled along her suitcase looking for a place to sit down. Most tables were occupied and many shared engaging conversations of their own that Deena didn't want to intrude, until she noticed a brunette sitting alone with a book in her hand reading quietly.

"Can I sit here?"

The girl looked up from her book and gestured towards the empty chair. "Go for it," she went back to reading.

She took off her backpack and placed it in the empty seat next to her before sitting down. The girl was young, or at least she appeared to be. Had to be around the same age, and she was very pretty.

That part Deena will keep to herself.

As if the girl felt Deena's complimenting stare, she tore away her gaze as the girl lifted her head from the book, but it was already too late since she was caught. "Have you read it?" She started. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I know right? It's for some stupid class, so the teacher's forcing us to read up to five chapters and come back to a pop quiz. Which, I know I will fail."

Both girls shared a short laughter.

"I'm Deena.” She introduced. “I'm new around here."

The waiter then came to take Deena's order while also setting down a grilled turkey sandwich with extra avocado and a side of fries for the girl. She finally placed down her book, giving thanks to the waiter before digging into her food.

The mouth-watering scent made Deena's stomach grumble. I’m so damn hungry.

"Davina," while washing down her fries with lemonade. "Not new here. But I noticed the accent. Where are you from?"

"France. More specifically, Le Havre." Deena replied. "You?"

"Born and raised. Also, don't hate me but the only place I know of France is Paris, but I'm sure Le Havre is a fun place to visit and live at."

Deena shrugged showing no offense to Davina's knowledge of France. She didn’t blame the girl since she knew nothing of the US besides New York, California, Florida, and Texas. They were normally the most talked about and the most used location in films. Also, it seemed a lot always happened in those states.

"It's cool. I actually didn't know Louisiana existed until a few days ago." Deena admitted.

"But here you are!"

She gave a small smile, agreeing. "Here I am."

Some moments later, the waiter delivered Deena's food; half cut Cuban sandwich with extra pickles and a sweet tea. She dug in without question.

Davina was a cool person to chat with. Easy-going, funny, and there was something about her energy Deena felt oddly connected to. Davina also felt an odd connection to Deena but brushed it off as she stuffed her mouth full.

There was a long list prepared for the day, but realized it was quite small and she had no starting point. I came here on a whim. With little to no planning, and childish hope.

But remembered Davina was from New Orleans. There's a possibility she might've ran into her father or seen him around somewhere. Or visited a store he owned. Or attended school with one of his kids. Or visited his grave.

"So, I was wondering since you're from around if you knew this man?" Deena wiped the oils from her fingers before reaching into her front backpack's pocket. Pulling out the photo of her mother and Klaus, she held it in front of Davina to inspect.

Davina noticeably froze upon viewing the photo. She had blinked a few times to make sure the man she saw wasn't just some random person she's misjudging but a man who was famously known throughout the streets and the supernatural world.

She pulled back from the table and picked at the grilled bread. "What do you want with him?" suddenly, she got hostile with Deena despite her pure intentions.

She knew him.

Deena sighed with relief. Davina obviously knew her father, but the cold tone she used when responding made her nervous. He must be married. With kids. Or nothing but a dead-beat. Or worse. Dead.

Deena returned the photo back into her backpack pocket with a shrug. "So you know him?"

"Yea, Klaus Mikaelson. Anyone who's done him bad or crossed his path on accident knows of him and his notorious siblings—"

"He has siblings?" Deena interjected.

"—oh yeah. Elijah and Rebekah Mikaelson and whoever comes back to life occasionally." She continued, slightly confusing Deena but she was happy to hear there's more than her father alive. "Terrorizing the city and the people who live within. Any person with a sense of mind would tell you to stay the hell away. You don't want anything to do with that psychotic man and his troubling siblings. His family is a curse to this city, to the communities, and they care for no one else but themselves. I'm sure the woman in that photo was killed by the hands of Klaus Mikaelson himself." She sneered.

Deena, not knowing this man nor his siblings personally, felt offended by Davina's harsh words because they were her family. And even worse, she accused her father murdering her mother. A beautiful soul who raised Deena with everything she could give her, found locked in her car with a letter admitting how unhappy she was with her life.

The smile on Deena’s face faltered to a deadpan glare as Davina bad-mouthed the family she had ties to. She noticed the change of her expression, but she thought nothing of it since she assumed she was doing good by scaring the curious French girl away from Klaus and far away from this cursed city.

Deena abruptly stood from her seat already gathering her belongings.

"W-where are you going? You haven't finished your— "

"The woman standing next to Klaus is my mother. And the man next to her, Klaus Mikaelson, is my father. And she wasn't murdered by him, she hated her life and everyone within it so she did the job herself." Deena vividly watched Davina grow with shock upon hearing Klaus was her father and was filled with sudden guilt from all she had said about her parents before. "But you are right about one thing; we are troubling. At least it keeps people away. So thanks for nothing. I'll find him my own damn self."

She wasn't sure how much the meal cost altogether and because the currency was slightly different, she left a big amount on the table which included a tip. She was out the restaurant in no time. Her head felt dizzy and she was hot all over heaving out steam, suddenly impacted by the overwhelming emotions she thought she had pushed back.

A month ago, Deena's mother passed away.

Her death made no sense. She was a cheerful woman who often hid away in her art studio painting and sketching for hours until it was time to pick Deena up from school. Students were often jealous because while other parents nagged on their child's grades and permitted curfews, Deena's mother never hovered over her shoulder about her grades and trusted Deena enough to be home within a reasonable time. And while other parents came dressed in their finest most classiest clothing for teacher conference nights or the school performances Deena was a part of, her mother came dressed straight out of a Fruits Magazine.

She was stressless, free, a kindred spirit, and an amazing mother. Sometimes Deena would forget her mother wasn't a close friend or an older sister despite having her at a young age. She was vocal about her problems and told Deena since a young age that "anger should never be placed into a bottle. Let the world hear you even if they say you scream too loud. They don't like Black girls expressing themselves in any manner if not with their heads down, so you must do it for the next little Black girl who's taking notes.".

But still, it made no sense.

The morning before she died, Deena's mother showed no signs of distress. She made banana pancakes, sent Deena off to school, and when she came home, her mother was working on a late piece for an art exhibition a friend in town invited her work to. She then left after dinner and was never seen for two days until Deena received a call from the police station. But it was questionable and she didn't understand it.

Why was she unhappy with life when she expected so much out of it? Why would she leave when she promised me the world? Why wasn’t she vocal with her depression in the same way she taught me to be vocal?

"Deena, wait!" Davina called out after placing down her half of the pay and rushed out the doors. She knew she was wrong for what she said and she felt terrible. "Look, I'm sorry! I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or bring your mother into this; I was only speaking from a personal experience which is no excuse at all. Next time, I should watch what I say. But..."

Deena kept walking. She struggled to drag her suitcase with her speed. The old wheels looked as if they were about to break off at any second, but she somehow managed to keep going.

Davina huffed annoyingly. "But I know where he is, Klaus Mikaelson," Deena halted her steps, facing the girl. "And I know where you can find him."

As Deena studied her face to find any spec of bluff hidden in her tone or written amongst her face, she saw she was telling the truth. She knew where her father currently hung around or lived, and of course, she wasn't going to question why or how she knew that kind of information.

"Where is he?" Asked Deena.

"The Abattoir. I can take you there since you might get lost. Also, you might want a travel buddy traveling in that particular area."

Deena sized the girl down. "Why? Will Klaus murder me too?"

"Again, I'm sorry about that." With her eyes narrowed, Davina apologized again. Deena still felt offended by what she said but since she genuinely felt sorry for it, about her mother at least, she decided to cut her some slack. She doesn't need an enemy on her first day in New Orleans. "Look, you're not from around and I'm sure you don't know about..."

Taking in Deena's blank stare, Davina then shook off the conversation and reached down for her suitcase. "Never mind, let's go."

Deena's hand was still on the handle, able to hold her grip from slipping it out her fingers and asked, "I don’t need your help. I can carry it myself." She tried pulling back but Davina somehow had the suitcase fully in her hands.

"It's about to break, I'm practically doing you a favor." She noticed the band stickers on her suitcase and claimed to have listened to some of them when she was thirteen.

Deena allowed her guard down and quickly followed behind Davina across the street before the main light turned green. She continued on about the particular bands she knew and who she used to stan and asked Deena about the bands she was unfamiliar with.

Somewhere during the conversation, "Thanks," it was soft but Davina caught it

She offered a soft smile. "You shouldn't thank me. I might not particularly like Klaus, but if he truly is your father, I wouldn’t live with myself by keeping you away from knowing him. At least then, hopefully, you might run away once you do."

"Is he really that bad of a man?"

Davina was quiet at her question. To her, Klaus wasn't just a bad man, he was terrible, and he almost killed her multiple times if it wasn't for Marcel having to save her. She wished she could tell Deena these things in hopes she would stay away, but no one wants to hear the bad of a man you've never met. Especially when he was your father. Family. It also wasn't her place to kill the image she might have of him.

Then she shrugged. "I will let you be the judge of that."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. It was well kept for the most part but it was obvious this house had been through hell, Deena definitely thought Klaus was a deadbeat. This wasn't a family home, but it was a pretty big property. Maybe a rich deadbeat?

Together they stood staring up at the white doors ready to be knocked upon. Davina stared at the door with fear. Every witch sense coursing through her blood told her to turn away and run.

She knew she wasn't allowed here—that witches weren't allowed here, but she came to protect Deena.

Deena wasn't aware of the supernatural world or the fact that her father was a ruthless millennium-old psychotic hybrid, and what lies within the compound was an 'army' of hungry blood-sucking vampires who were already aware of their presence. Vampires who were too scared to leave Klaus if not slaughtered after the gruesome war against Marcel's army and enemies, and whoever they could rally up if Marcel hadn't got to them first.

Nevertheless, Davina watched her new friend lift her hand to knock on the door. Sucking in a deep breath, her knuckles were seconds away from alerting the vampires before something churned in her stomach. She quickly lowered her hand and hurried away.

"I can't do this." Deena panicked.

Davina lingered a bit longer at the door before rushing after her. "Where are you going? He's right inside." She shouted, dragging along the suitcase.

"I can't do it." She breathed heavily. "I-I don't know why I came here in the first place. And I hate myself for being curious, but I don't think I can do it. I should go home with the money I have left."

There was so much roaming through Deena's brain all at once. She thought she was ready to meet with him, but she wasn't, or at least she was convincing herself that she's not. But after losing the only family she had, Deena had grown lonely and desperate for someone to care about her and love her as much as her mother did. That's why she went through her mother's things. She trashed her mother's room, the kitchen, the attic, even her own room in the process. She didn't know what she was searching for until she discovered the letter.

It was meant to be given on her 18th birthday, a couple of months early.

But now that she was here, she didn't feel as pumped as before. Maybe she should've thought a bit longer on the idea before hopping on the next plane to New Orleans? Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself? Maybe this wasn't the right thing for her to do?

Davina grabbed Deena just as she was about to cross the street and tugged on her arm so that she was facing her. "Just breathe." She attempted to calm her down.

Deena rolled her eyes. "I am breathing."

"No, you're not. You look like you're about to pass out." Despite her annoyance, Deena forced herself to calm down. Once seeing she had, Davina narrowed her gaze before speaking. "I have no words to comfort you. Hell, I can't even comfort myself, but I can tell you, that you will regret not meeting him and him not knowing you. You have a chance that many kids don't have; I don't even know whether my dad is alive or not, but you do. And you should take it."

"I feel like I'm gonna ruin his life." Deena admitted.

Davina scoffed with a dragged 'please'.

"I'm serious. How would you feel living a life of your own for however many years and suddenly a seventeen-year-old kid comes knocking at your front door claiming to be your daughter? I would close the door in her face and continue my show!"

"If I was Klaus Mikaelson, I would be pretty damn blessed to have a kid with my blood in their veins at my doorstep. You never know."

"He must be a pretty famous man the way you speak of him."

She shrugged. "You can say that. But look," She took hold of Deena's hand. "Go meet him. Let him know who you are. And if you regret it, you can take the first plane back to Le..."

"Le Havre," she completed.

"Right. Le Havre. And I will be right here supporting you."

Davina was right. At least she had a chance to get to know her father while many don't and she shouldn't let the opportunity pass by. She sucked in a deep breath and began making her way to the white doors, but just as soon as she took her first step, she was stopped by Davina's stretched arm hitting her chest. She appeared focused, waiting for something to come.

She pushed away Davina's arm from deep within her chest, but she stopped her again.

Deena rolled her eyes with a huff. "You give me some go-for-it-speech and now you don't want me to seize the moment while I'm ready?"

"Something isn't right," Davina eased out with worry.

Deena would've guessed the brunette was another spiderman from an alternate universe the way she peered around her surroundings like a guard dog. Or spidey senses, she'd call it. She didn't see nor feel what Davina was and there was no one within their proximity when glancing around to catch what she caught, so she wasn't sure what had her on edge.

"You are right," Both girls jumped at the deep voice of a brown-skinned woman who spoke with a slight thick accent. She wore a green tank-top with dark blue jeans and she had to be around thirty years old, and she was looking at Deena as she came forward. "Something isn't right."

Despite the weird look, at least Deena knew she wasn't a stranger judging by Davina's calm expression and her tensed shoulders releasing.

She removed her arm from Deena's chest with a sigh. "Zoeè? What are you doing on this side of town?"

"I could ask you the same, harvest girl?"

Davina doesn't respond.

"I sensed someone—" Her brown eyes flickered to Deena. "—special entered the city and came runnin' soon as I could. And now that the cloaking spell has worn off and the prophecy is clear, all that I need to seal the deal is standing right in front of me."

Davina stepped in front of Deena in a protective manner once putting together two and two. "I don't know what this is about but let's not do it here. You and I both aren’t safe in this area—" merely glancing back. "—and she has nothing to do with this. This is between me and you."

Deena was clearly confused. "I'm sorry but who is this?"

"Don't matter who I am. What matters is what you gone do to our kind once the Mikaelsons find out you're alive."

Whatever happened, happen so fast that Deena was unable to process absolutely nothing. After Davina screamed out, she pushed her back and lifted her hands in a wizard-like manner before she was thrown against the building wall with no effort.

Deena followed the invisible force to the woman, Zoeè who's smiling back at her and scattered away. She would have ran after Davina, but her first instinct was to get herself to safety first and take a moment to digest what the hell just happened.

"Solem," With a flick of a wrist, Deena failed to cross the road before she found darkness and the cold ground.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read here

#black!oc #black reader #the originals fanfiction #ao3 writer #black fem reader #fanfic #father x daughter #wattpad #the originals #black!reader #klaus mikaelson x black reader #tvdu fanfiction #the originals au #davina claire

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crimsonlyinglilly · 1 month ago

Text

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

Here's Day 12 of @whumptober 2024

back to Forgotten, following from "What's the bad news?" as Kol finds out how much has changed.

---

Kol woke up choking gasping for air he could get.

“Crap-” he barely managed to catch the words but he recognized Marcel's voice. “Invite him in, D.”

“Come in.” a girl’s voice called quickly.

Suddenly he could breathe as the crushing feeling vanished.

He blinked as he was able to take in his situation, he was in a coffin unsurprisingly but the pair that stared at him weren’t his family.

When Klaus daggered him he was expecting to lose another century, as much as Finn and Rebekah claimed they wouldn't allow it, that they were a team now; they couldn't undagger him if they didn't know where he was, the fact none of them knew where Elijah was.

Some part of him wondered despite all Nik’s claims that his brother had another hiding hole and at some point in the last century Elijah had ended up there, annoyed Nik so much that he hadn't been released for the happy family reunion.

He wasn’t expecting it to be Marcel Gerard’s frown that greeted him.

At least he didn’t look too different from the cafe meeting, fashions the same meaning it couldn’t have been that long.

The pretty witch was a delightful addition but that did little to get rid of his rage, however before he could fully lunge for Marcel's throat he found himself thrown back a pinned flat in the coffin.

“You hurt either of them and I’ll lock you in there forever.” the girl told him coldly, as Kol was stuck looking between the ceiling and Marcellus’s stupid face.

A witch and powerful at that, Kol smirked as he realised this- she was the reason the witches were desperate to call Nik and used the baby to control him, they were lucky Nik was desperate to lure Elijah back, with the call of family.

Otherwise Nik would have abandoned the child over his pride, instead it had set him up against his beloved chosen Marcellus and Kol had been made into a bargaining chip.

Given to Marcel, helpless, as a god damn chest piece, a pawn, for all Nik’s claims of family Kol, his brother, had once again fallen to the side again.

That didn't explain why he was undaggered, as much as he despised it he knew he was far more manageable than way.

“Marcel, didn't know you liked my company that much.” He grinned, as he left the force holding him drop and he slowly pushed himself up

“I don't,” Marcel snapped, stepping back and placing himself between Kol and the witch. “I just hate those daggers.”

“Really I remember from my sister's complaints, you had no issue leaving her daggered for decades to get on Nik’s side.” he replied before cocking his head to investigate the witch, “Kol Mikaelson at your service, love.”

The girl, D?, he remembered Marcel calling as he suffocated earlier, didn't offer her name and instead stared at him.

“That's none of your-” Marcel started, but Kol cut him off.

“My sister, my business.” he reminded him.

Marcel sighed and Kol caught the faint sounds of a piano being played, he closed his eyes for a moment to breathe, another vampire was downstairs and yet that was all. The house was empty other than Marcel, the young witch and the vampire downstairs playing, it was strange, they clearly weren't in the compound. He thanked his supernatural hearing and the differences between humans and vampires that allowed him to notices the small scattered vampires in the crowds outside.

Bodyguards, but for the witch or the vampire downstairs because if that one was a guard he wouldn’t be playing but up here. A lover perhaps moved away to keep from Klaus or Rebekah when she eventually returns to the city, while the noise outside spoke of the city, it was calmer than the compound’s location.

Either way to weak points Marcel was allowing him to know about.

“What are you up to Marcel?” he asked, honest curiosity, “a little hide away in the city”

“I want your brother out of my city.” Marcel answered.

“The city my brother's built, you mean?” he corrected he knew how much work Elijah had put into this city, he was half the reason he had followed Niklaus here.

“Kol, he daggered you.”

“He does that.” Kol snapped “Sure I'm pissed at him but why you think I'd side with his foundling over my blood, I don't know.”

“What if it was for Elijah?” Marcel asked, making Kol freeze as all his thoughts vanished.

“What!?” he lunged ignoring the witch and found himself thrown back into the coffin for it, “if you’ve had him-” he snarled “after everything he did, he loved you, gave you up-”

“You knew?” Marcel blinked.

“Of course I saw the way he looked at you before I was daggered again,” he snarled as honest resentment spilled free “to protect you. I saw the way you were the next time I was undaggered, once again Elijah gave up what he wanted for Nik, and yet again he didn’t notice.”

“Did you all-“

“Yes.” Kol seethed as he attempted to smother his anger, “but Nik couldn’t admit he made a mistake, that he was jealous of how close you were, and later Bex wasn’t going to think too much on the fact both her brothers saw her lover as a son. So what have you done to Elijah?“ he managed to ask calmly.

“Nothing- I’ve been trying to fix it.“ Marcel protested making Kol frown but he once again pushed himself up without making any threatening moves, the witch’s glare was fierce as she watched him.

She was young, mid to late teens and powerful, and no doubt a brilliant mind behind sharp eyes, but Elijah had to come first.

“Fix what? tell me.” he demanded as he climb out of the coffin.

“Your father made a version of the daggers, to keep Elijah out of the way when he hunted Klaus, he left your brother here until he killed Klaus.”

“So undagger him.” he retorted the obvious while resisting the urge to swear and take his anger out on the coffin tearing it apart would mak him feel better, because of course it was fucking Mikael, hunting Niklaus and not caring about any of the rest of them getting caught in the middle.

“I tried as soon as we found him, we couldn't.“

“What do you mean, couldn't?” he asked, “just pulled the dagger out.”

“He couldn’t, it was different from those ones,” the witch added, “ the moment it entered Elijah’s heart the enchantment spread to his body.”

“It took the work of several witches before we developed an idea of how to free him.“ Marcel added moving, clearly to pull his attention from the witch.

“So he’s free now, what’s the issue?” he questioned because something wasn’t working out and Kol had a creeping sense of dread of what it was.

The piano playing vampire downstair must be Elijah as the only other one in the house but missed notes and mistakes that Elijah would never argued against that idea.

“He was awake and feeling it every moment, the dagger in his heart, the clothes on his skin.” Marcel confessed and Kol hated as the dread settled in his stomach, very little could keep Elijah from them but Kol swallowed around the lump in his throat. Finn had been awake for centuries in his coffin, hearing it all but even he hadn’t been feeling the object in his heart.

And he had still been with the family, even if he hated them.

Elijah had been awake and aware they had left him, forgotten him.

Elijah who had always done everything to keep them together.

Alone.

“I want to see him.” he said, suddenly, it couldn’t be that bad, Elijah just needed to know how much the family needed him and he could shake off whatever leftover effects.

The pair shared a look before they nodded, the witch disappearing ahead of them out of the room.

“No violence.” Marcel started after they left the room.

“What?”he blinked stopping for a moment for moving faster to catch up

“He’s not as he was, so just be careful around him.” Marcel warned and Kol noticed they were heading towards the music, the witch must have run ahead, to warn them-Elijah maybe.

“He’s my brother. I've known him for 8 centuries on and off.” Kol reminded sharply, he had lost over two centuries thanks to the coffins and Elijah’s habit of helping Nik.

“Just-” Marcel let his breath out in a hiss, “Please, listen and be gentle.”

Kol wanted to retort that Elijah didn’t need gentle, had never needed it but he remembers over hearing Finn’s nightmares before he left the mansion to find Elijah before mother’s death.

Finn had never been close enough to any of them to confide in them, then never bothered to look for a problem but Elijah was different, they had all worked to see what little weakness they could use to combat his iron will.

“Wait here,” Marcel ordered, as they reached the door where the music was coming from, closer now just made the flaws and mistakes Elijah wouldn’t make clearer.

Kol was humouring Marcellus, that was all.

It couldn’t be that bad, Elijah was- well Elijah.

Maybe the time had messed up his nerves, his hands were stiff from so long not using them.

“How are you feeling today Elijah?” He heard Marcel ask, causing the music to stop.

“I can’t play, my hands just aren’t working with me today.” Came a quiet answer, Kol bit his cheek, softer than Elijah normally was but it was still his brother’s voice.

It had only been a handful of years to him but it sounded too different but still, it was Elijah.

He had been here all this time,but maybe he had been right, it was just some left over stiffness, he could call his siblings, Finn who had been growing worryingly open about his concern and Rebekah he had caught crying blaming herself for Elijah’s absence.

“You have a visitor.” Marcel said and Kol knew his cue so he pushed the doors open and strolled in as if he owned the place half expecting a judgemental look.

“Hello bro-“ he started but failed to finish as he took in the other.

The last time he had seen Elijah his brother had held him for Klaus to dagger, sharp suit, cold expression and disappointment in his narrowed eyes.

This Elijah looked at him with wide eyes, hair short and free of any product, suit gone replaced by a too big loose sweatshirt.

He looked small, Kol couldn’t help but he stuck by it.

“Kol?” his brother called in disbelief looking between him, Marcel and the witch.

“He's real.” Marcel told Elijah painfully softly, it set a chill down his spine.

Kol watched as a grin spread across Elijah's face, he managed to catch sight of him standing from the piano before he found himself staring at the ceiling as his back hit the ground, too shocked to brace himself.

His brother was too light, he thought as he realised Elijah was on him.

One arm around his back, the other cupping the back of his head so he hadn’t hit it on the floor, because of course Elijah had thought of that.

His brother’s head was buried in his shoulder and could feel the deep breaths he was taking but Kol’s mind was stuck by the fact Bex had felt heavier last time they had wrestled.

His hands moved to hug his brother back, and he swallowed as he felt how thin and fragile he was.

“What happened?” he croaked around the lump in his throat.

“Sorry I've been working on that.” Elijah admitted sheepishly as pull back from his neck to look him in the face, he had clearly noticed the way Kol’s hands had frozen on his back, a world away from his confident big brother.

Elijah stared at his face for a moment as if to memorise it, giving Kol as much time to trace the sharp cheekbones and jaw, too thin, his brother had alway been handsome, it was something they shared but never this delicate, before he returned his face to his shoulder hugging him tightly enough that he felt his bones crack.

He wrapped himself back around Elijah too scared to squeeze himself in case he broke him.

The dagger was different, he had been awake and apparently starving inside the coffin, alone, what if it had weakened his bones, his healing?

“You going to let me go?” he asked after he realised too much time had passed to be normal, or acceptable in any other time, he had managed to sit up which left him with a brother on his lap.

Elijah barely noticed the move or his current place and Kol was growing highly aware of just how light he was.

"Just a little more." Elijah almost pleaded into his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere.” he replied in an attempt to reassure and get Elijah to let go, he hadn’t expected he would need to do more than that but Elijah just shook his head and attempted to hug him tighter.

He choked slightly at the pressure.

“Hey E,” Marcel called lightly, making Kol want to pull Elijah closer himself, E? Lik he had called the witch D, no one nicknamed Elijah, “you may want to loosen your hold before you hurt him.”

Suddenly he no longer had a brother on him as Elijah threw himself backwards, rising from the ground to standing was graceful as he expected of his brother as was watching as he flatten the front of his hoodie the way he would with a suit.

But those were only glimpses of familiar things, everything else screamed wrong.

“How come you're here?” Elijah asked, but he clearly wasn’t interested in the answer as he was still looking over Kol as if he expected him to vanish.

“Nik-” Kol started but realised as soon as the name left his mouth he had made a mistake as Marcel froze but Elijah flinched.

“Niklaus, he's here in the city?” Elijah spoke his voice sharper than the soft murmur he had started to hate but he realised it was better than the panic now clear “Marcel that's what your-” he twisted to face Marcel “why, why now? Where was he? What did I do wrong?”

Something in Kol’s chest breaks the same way Elijah’s voice did in the final question.

“What?” he asked “why do you think that Elijah?”

“I had to,” Elijah explained, “or why was I left behind, I had to, they had to have a reason.”

“It’s alright, I've got it under control, you and D are safe here.” Marcel promised, as he took a step closer to Elijah, Kol noticed the witch stand up as well.

“NO!” Elijah shouted stepping back from Marcel, but the volume vanished as Elijah's voice hitched “He’ll bring father back.” he whimpered.

Kol was frozen on the floor as he watched his big brother wrap his arms around himself and shook.

Untouchable, prefect, collected Elijah, gone.

Gone without any of them noticing.

Kol took a breath, smothered his own fear at the sight, the hurt and pushed himself back to his feet, standing within arms reach of Elijah, curled in on himself as he was made the height difference between them stark.

“Mikael’s dead.” he said.

“What?” Elijah’s shaking stopped and Kol found the narrowed eyed glare of dark eyes was a relief as the sharp attention fixed on him “He- when?”

“Over a year ago.” he answered

“Over a year” Elijah repeated after him with a flat empty tone “and nobody came.”

“We didn't know where you were,” the words caused Elijah to shudder but Kol kept going “Finn left looking for you. Me and Bekah too, we all have since Klaus undaggered us.

“Rebekah was daggered?” Elijah asked.

“How long has she been daggered?” Marcel spoke at the same time.

“About a year after they left here,” he replied, Rebekah had told him shortly after the rework when mother was attempting to play happy families. “Mikael found them again.”

“You were looking.” Elijah said slowly.

“Of course.”

Elijah seemed to take the words in as his breathing calmed, however before Kol could say another thing he's eyes slid shut and Kol lunged to catch Elijah as he collapsed.

“ELIJAH!” he shouted. Looking up to find Marcel frozen in a similar reaching position, “What wrong with him?” he demanded

“He’s overwhelmed.” Marcel sighed

“Elijah doesn't just-” he started

“He does now, a century in the coffin changed things, you saw that.” Marcel pointed out.

“It’s more than emotional things” the witch added, “it’s physical, he sleeps more, struggles to stay warm, has some days he can't get out of bed-”

“And drinking?” he asked, “You said you removed the dagger a few months ago and he's still too thin.”

“He forgets to eat.” The witch explained annoyance and concern as she looked at Elijah.

“And you have him locked away alone here because-” he trailed off expecting an answer.

“He gets overwhelmed.” Marcel repeated, “he forgets his strength sometimes, he killed two of my guys by accident and then blamed himself for it.”

“So you leave him with a teenager.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I can look after myself, I'm helping Elijah.” the girl protested.

“I'll take him to his room.” Marcel said as he stepped closer, Kol readjusted his hold on ELijah until he had him in a bridal carry, shifting them until Elijah’s head was in the crook of his neck, Elijah skin was colder than he should have been.

“No.” he replied.

“What?”

“Lead the way. He's my brother.”Kol added with a touch too many teeth to be anything other than a threat.

Elijah is as terrifyingly light as he feared, he noted as he walked through the house following Marcel, it seemed his coffin was on the other side of the house from Elijah’s room.

Once he followed Marcel through the door, he wasn’t sure what he expected but he was relieved to find the room looked to his brother’s taste, that was one thing unchanged, numerous filled bookshelves sat against the walls and a clearly in use writers desk sat among them.

The furniture was simple yet classy, the biggest difference was the bed, or more honestly the stack of folded blankets sat on it.

Kol sets Elijah down gently in the bed but still frowns when it causes no reaction, Elijah was a light sleeper, a necessity with four younger siblings and Mikael.

“He sleeps heavily.” Marcel explained noticing his concern, as he began covering Elijah was a series of blankets.

He watched taking a step back when he thought they were done only to blink when Marcel stepped over to the writers desk and started writing onto a piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” He asked, keeping his voice low out of instinct.

“Writing a note so he doesn’t wake up thinking you were a dream and start wondering if he ever escaped the coffin.” Marcel told him.

“That could happen?” he asked, hearing the horror in his own voice.

“Hasn’t for a few weeks but if anything set us back it would be this.” Marcel said casually like it wasn’t a nightmare, Kol’s calm controlled always put together big brother; broken, shattered, untrusting of his own mind.

Kol turned and walked from the room before he gave in to the part of him that wanted to crawl into the bedside his brother and refuse to let him go so he was never alone again.

He found the witch waiting for them standing tensely, he plastered on a charming smile and smothered the terror of the fact Elijah was the one that needed protecting now.

“Sorry,” he apologised as he stepped out the door and waited for Marcel to follow “I never got your name Love.”

“It’s Davina, Davina Claire,” she told him coolly but he noticed the interest in her eyes.

Well that settled that then, both reasons he had even bothered to follow Nik back to this place in one place.

“So we got a deal, you keep this a secret and help me to get Klaus to leave-” Marcel began after he shut the door.

“No.” he smiled.

“What?“

“I’m staying.”

“What?” Marcel repeated flatly

“I told him I’m not going anywhere, I meant it.” Kol shrugged, he hadn’t when he said the words but as the full realisation of what Mikael had done, of how Elijah had reacted to Nik’s name, there was no way he was leaving Elijah.

“Klaus and you wanted me out the way, so I’ll stay here out of both your ways with Elijah and you can have fun fighting Klaus for this city.“ he beamed with an innocent smile that none of his siblings believed but far too many outside them did.

His smile widened as he took in the horror in Marcel’s expression.

Marcel might be family after all as he clearly saw through it.

#whumptober2024 #No.12 #“Just a little more.”#the originals #fic #kol mikaelson #davina claire #marcel gerard #elijah mikealson #fanfiction #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction #the originals au #the vampire dairies au #tvd #AU- Forgotten

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