PERIPETEIA ⚜️ E.MIKAELSON

[ The Return ]

CHAPTER 1
[ New Orleans, 2011 ]

"Third time in here this week." Jane-Anne called from behind the bar towards the now familiar girl.

"I'm obsessed with the gumbo, Jane-Anne." Hayley smiled as she sat down at the bar.

"You know, ladies in the 9th ward say my sister, Sophie, bleeds a piece of her soul into every dish." Both women glanced towards Sophie, who was busy working on the other side of Rousseau's, but a petite brunette caught Hayley's eye. Georgia had previously been too busy cleaning tables to pay any notice to their conversation, but her ears perked up upon hearing the girl's next words.

"I asked around the Quarter about my family..." Jane-Anne appeared to focus upon the girl as well.

"And?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Zero. I can't find a single person who remembers them." She sighed, sipping from her drink.

"Because, Hayley, people like you were run out of here years ago." Jane-Anne said in a hush whisper, leaning over the counter towards the girl. She was a wolf. Georgia thought. It was rough to be a witch in the french quarter- but being a werewolf was a much more serious crime.

"What do you mean, people like me?" Hayley furrowed her brow as Jane-Anne walked around the bar, to stand beside the girl. Georgia watched as Sophie turned from her gumbo to watch them as well.

"In the bayou, they call the werewolves Roux-Ga-Roux". Jane-Anne drew a circle around the bayou on the map that she had laid upon the bar counter. "You head out there, you'll find what you're looking for. Be careful. It's the last place you'd ever want to go."

Hayley nodded as she took the map, and quickly exited the bar.

"What are you up to Jane-Anne?" Georgia tilted her head, watching as the sisters exchanged a glance before turning to the barmaid.

"Taking back what's ours" She smiled, holding several strands of the werewolf's hair. Georgia sighed and shook her head, while she wanted it to, Georgia knew more than likely this wouldn't end well, not with Marcel running the Quarter.

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Georgia was right.

Tensions were high throughout the next day following the public execution of Jane-Anne and lingering rumours of the arrival of the legendary Mikaelson family. Being a French quarter witch, Georgia had heard the story of how they built New Orleans into its glory from what was once a backwater penal colony almost over night, hundreds of times. The story always changed depending on who you heard it from, but more often than not, it ended in persecution of the witches- so naturally all covens throughout NOLA were on edge at the hushed whisper of their return.

Georgia had been multi-tasking between the floor and taking Jane-Anne's place behind the bar, all night. While she had encouraged Sophie to go home, she was glad she didn't because then at least she wouldn't have to make the gumbo as well and most likely give some one food poisoning in the process. She watched Sophie as she chopped vegetables, she usually looked her happiest while cooking but understandably, today she seemed upset.

Georgia almost hadn't noticed the tall, golden-haired man or the two men that followed closely behind him enter Rousseau's until he made his way past her and towards Sophie. As she began to protest, the two men, who acted as some kind of bodyguards, silenced her with a harsh glare. She recognised them as vampires, Marcels vampires. Their glare was reciprocated and maintained as she continued collecting glasses and dishes from empty tables. While their presence made her blood boil, now was not the time to provoke them, they had inflated egos following Jane-Anne's death and would not hesitate in making an example out of Georgia as well- and she needed to stay alive.

"You're Klaus." Sophie lifted her head for the first time that night.

"I am. And you're upset. Sophie, isn't it? I assume this is because of what I just witnessed with your sister on the corner of Royal and St. Ann?" Georgia grimaced at the lack of sympathy in his voice.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Sophie fake smiled, maintaining her focus upon chopping vegetables and not her fingers.

"It was a little melodramatic for my tastes. What did your sister want with me?" Sophie began to speak, but stopped upon seeing the men that had followed Klaus into the bar.

"I see you brought friends." Klaus turned his attention to the men, watching as they eyed a dark-haired girl waiting tables, before turning back to Sophie.

"They're not with me." He looked at her.

"They're with Marcel. That's all that matters. I know you built this town, but this is his town now." Klaus grimaced at the word. "He killed my sister because she broke the rules. So I talk to you in front of them, I'm next."

With that, Sophie left, but not before motioning to Georgia to keep an eye on the trio. The young witch watched Klaus approach them as they stood at the bar, gripping their shoulders with a loud slapping sound. She observed as the they chatted quietly, although the anger behind Klaus' words were clear as day, so she stepped in reluctantly before the situation could escalate.

"Sorry for the wait." She smiled falsely, retying her waist-apron. "If you're here for the gumbo, I'm about to break your heart. We just ran out-but there should be another batch out s-" her words caught in her throat as the tall, blonde stranger placed a 100-dollar bill upon the bar top.

"Your oldest Scotch for my two friends here, love." He flashed a smile, watching as the men eyed her once again. Georgia nodded, slipping the bill into her apron.

Klaus resumed his grip upon the men as she made her way toward the cellar. "If Marcel wants to know what I'm up to, he can ask me himself."

He let go of them, roughly and left just as Georgia returned with the bottle of scotch. She sighed, placing it upon the shelf as the other men made their way towards the back entrance, where Sophie stood, tending to candles when the door behind her suddenly swung shut with a bang, startling her.

She looked around warily, but stood her ground, remaining still as a shadowy figure appeared behind her. She swivelled around, sighing as she still saw no one, Sophie turned back and jumped as the familiar face of one of Marcels vampires stood before her.

"The doors work, you know." The man's lips remained sealed as a voice spoke from behind her.

"You're doing magic?" Sophie scoffed, looking back over her shoulder.

"I'm praying to my dead sister. Go ahead, pay your respects." Sighing, Sophie turned back to the first vampire, who vamp-sped closer to her.

"Don't make this a thing, Sophie. The hybrid was looking for Jane-Anne. Marcel wants to know why."

"Oh, that sounds like witch business. I'd say ask her yourself, but I guess you can't, seeing as Marcel killed her." She quipped, turning back to the second vampire, as the first began to advance towards her from behind her, before he suddenly disappeared into the darkness.

Sophie turned quickly, and was joined by the other vampire in looking around frantically for the man, turning at the sound of a light thud upon the ground behind them, where a heart lay, oozing blood.

The vampire growled, pulling Sophie towards him before being thrown up against the red bricked exterior of Rousseau's and hung from a large wooden stake. Sophie watched in fear as their attacker straightened his suit jacket.

"I'm Elijah."

He smirked, turning to her "You heard of me?" Sophie nodded fervently, watching as he wiped the blood from his hands with a handkerchief.

"So, why don't you tell me what business your family has with my brother?"