𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ━━ elijah mikaelson (1)

𝖝𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎. Dead Man Walking

"I'm sorry."

Marisol tried to smile, but it looked terrible and she felt terrible for trying to say that it was alright. "The story doesn't end there. I, uh, I brought him back to my home village for my sister to say goodbye. I thought we could bury him with our family during the night, but she didn't like that. She always had a knack for curses. They were second nature to her, so of course, she revived Magnus then took a vial of vampire blood she had and forced it down his throat before killing him again.

"Then she got to me. I failed her by not protecting Magnus, so she cursed me. I didn't even blame her for it at the time. It was my fault, I'm the one who got Magnus killed because if I hadn't run, if I hadn't engaged with the Mikaelsons in the first place then Kol wouldn't have killed Magnus."

"It's not your fault that he died," Marcel told her.

This time, she could smile. "I know. And it's not your fault that Davina died. You did everything you could to save her, and-and she was ready. She was ready to die," she began to choke up in the end, because no teenager should be ready to die. No teenager should just accept their death and be slaughtered as a sacrificial lamb.

Marcel looked down. "Is Magnus still alive?"

She nodded. "He's traveling right now. Last time I talked to him he was in Spain, but I'm sure he's somewhere else in Europe now."

"Do the others know about him?"

"No. I'm scared to let Klaus now in case I piss him off again, and – well, it hasn't come up any other time," Marisol explained, "But it felt right to tell you."

Davina was so young, she was just a child. A teenager that witches wanted to sacrifice, a girl who had so much power that it was killing her, a girl who just wanted to be normal but couldn't.

Marcel nodded, looking around and then taking in Marisol's appearance. "You should probably shower."

She laughed a little, but nodded in agreement. She probably should. He stood up, clasping his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of thanks before leaving her. She stayed there for a moment alone before putting away the bottle of bourbon and heading to her room.

As the water washed over her, she shut her eyes. She could see Davina's body collapsing, the blood flooding from her neck, the final gasp of breath trying to cling onto life before it was taken from her. The silence as they waited, the tensions rising, the anticipation, only for nothing to happen. Only for her to stay dead on the ground with no revival in sight.

She washed the grim off her, scrubbing every inch of her body, trying to clean herself from the guilt. She tried to save Davina, and that was enough, even if it didn't feel like it.

Turning the water off, she left the shower, and dressed herself in new clothes. She looked better now, more put together in front of the mirror, though her eyes were a bit dull. Sunken in, cold, and lifeless. She sucked in a breath before leaving her room, turning the corner before finding Hayley there with an overwhelmingly guilty presence.

It reeked on her. The stench of it, the look of it, filling her pores and exuding from her. Marisol grimaced for a moment as Hayley walked closer to her. "I made a mistake," the pregnant werewolf admitted.

Marisol sighed, leaning against the railing and looking down at the ground floor below them. "So Elijah told me," she muttered, "Now, what made you think that digging up Celeste's bones was a good idea?"

Hayley's eyes flared alive. "Sophie promised me that she could undo the curse on the werewolves. I need to meet my family," she snapped, cooling down after and muttering, "Sorry. I know."