r.i.p to my youth <<>> mercy mikaelson

two

Not to mention, Mavis was incredibly loyal, and always knew how to hype Mercy up whenever the girl was feeling doubtful or insecure about her place in the werewolf community. She encouraged the younger of the two to claim her queenly rights and not to let anybody take it from her. Mercy wasn't so sure, but the girl—who was only older by a year—was adamant that Mercy was perfect for the job, and that she shouldn't worry about what the wolves thought.

It was hard, but Mavis was always there to make things just a little bit easier.

Mercy sighed, discarding her homework completely as she focused on her friend. "I don't know," she mumbled toward the sheets of the bed, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. "I kind of have to talk to my dad about something anyway, and I feel like I should confront him tonight."

"Oh, really?" Mavis was surprised, straightening her back as her face turned serious. "What are you going to talk to him about? Are you going to bring up the reason you've been avoiding him?"

Mercy sent a look to the girl that said No shit, Sherlock, causing Mavis to raise her hands in surrender. "I mean, yea," she said as if it were the most perceptible thing in the world. "I feel bad about doing it, but I think if he knew why, he wouldn't be so on my back about everything. Maybe he'd even let me lead a tour out by the perimeter."

"Let you?" Mavis laughed, shaking her head ruefully. "If there's one thing I know about you, Mercy Mikaelson, it's that you don't follow anybody's rules but your own." Mercy couldn't help but smirk slightly to herself, knowing that the words were absolutely true. "Besides, it's not like he can take your title away. It's yours. Not his. You don't need his permission to rule over your own people and decide what's best for them. He can give advice, sure, but he shouldn't be the one making the decisions."

Mercy bit her lip, still nervous about confronting her father considering all the baggage she was planning to unload on him. This conversation was long overdue, and Mercy could feel the tension already tightening her bones.

She loved her father; there was no question about how much love she held for him. But despite this bond, Klaus Mikaelson was still an incredibly difficult man to deal with, especially when she was the only daughter that he could properly get to know. He wouldn't be able to do the same with Hope, thanks to the Hollow, and so it felt—to Mercy anyway—that he was trying to be twice as protective over her than if he had both of his daughters in his life. It drove Mercy crazy if she was being honest.

All her life, she's loved the adventure, the rush of adrenaline, the euphoric high of getting into some kind of trouble. And all her life, her father had been trying to keep her out of said trouble, which would cause anybody like them to clash heads once in a while.

She was shaken out of her stupor as a hand fell onto her shoulder. Mercy glanced up to see that Mavis was staring at her with a soft expression, one that the usually abrasive girl only showed to her. While Mercy valued Mavis as a sort of replacement for her twin, Mavis was an only child, and she treasured Mercy as a sister that would connect them through many lifetimes.

Sometimes, Mavis's native culture came out—she was originally from a werewolf pack all the way in Japan—and she would say an old proverb that she learned in grade school. After being roughly translated to English, it said: As my sister, you are both my mirror, and my opposite.

Mercy found it quite fitting, not only for her relationship with Mavis, but sometimes, even with the distant childhood relationship to her real sister.