"i'm just trying to help you! at least save some broken remnants of your innocence!"
"my innocence? oh god dad, that's long gone!"
or
in which mercy mikaelson is dealing with all the things that make growing up so hard.
{season 5}
{book 2}
compl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
| lost (adj): denoting something that has been taken away or cannot be recovered |
MERCY DIDN'T WASTE any time dilly-dallying.
She had gone to the small, familiar house in the French Quarter, trying to ignore the awful hole in her chest as she succumbed to her fate completely. The bag slung over her shoulder reminded her that she couldn't turn around—she was already too far gone. And besides, it's not like she had anything good to go back to.
Her parents feared their own child; Jordyn probably hated her for what Mercy did; Hope was falling apart at the seams due to Mercy's own decisions; her aunts and uncles in the Abattoir had things of their own to worry about—Kol had Davina, Rebekah had Marcel, and Freya had Keelin. They were all too busy. If Mercy returned, things would only get worse, and she had enough of her family to last a lifetime.
She needed this; she needed to go off on her own, but she also needed help. She couldn't do this alone—despite her own reservations. She had done everything on her own before, and it only ever led to disaster. So, taking a chance, Mercy knocked loudly on the front door.
It opened immediately, startling her. "Let me guess," Mercy began, shifting the strap of her bag nervously. "You knew I was coming?"
Faeryn only smiled, looking completely put together despite the late hour of the day. "Of course," she answered smoothly in her French accent, winking at the girl. "I know everything."
Mercy rolled her eyes, but her face remained serious. She was so far gone from the mischievous, carefree little girl she once was, and the serious nature of her soul felt unnatural and unnerving. "Then you know what I want to do..." She trailed off, raising an eyebrow at the Lancaster witch.
But, like usual, Faeryn was prepared, and she nodded her head. "I know you have the spell in Tokala's books," she replied, bending down near the front door to grab a duffle bag. "I've packed any ingredients I might need."
Mercy smiled then, impressed. "Well, we should get going," she said, already turning away from the house. Faeryn locked her front door, following after the girl. "We have to stop by the bayou on the way. I left the blade there."
Faeryn looked at her incredulously. "You left it?" Her voice was surprised, and almost offended, and Mercy sighed.
"I was dealing with a lot, okay?" She whined, rolling her eyes. "But, once we get it and I let the wolves know what's happening, then we leave."
Faeryn shook her head, brushing a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face. "Where will we go? It's not like we can exactly run from your family."
Mercy shook her head. "We don't need to run," she denied sternly, meeting Faeryn's gaze steadily. "Look, the full moon is in three days—including tomorrow. All I need is a bit of time—"
