Chapter 2

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Always and forever. Such a short phrase meant more than anything to this family, for it was the one true phrase we lived, laughed, and loved by. Always and forever had become somewhat of a fairytale that we told ourselves at night, god knows we never heard any of those during our youth. Always and forever had become the Mikaelson curse.

As a child I had longed for never and no more. That was only thing that a child who was continually beaten to the brink of death wished for. Never and no more was my escape from the torture Mikael inflicted on me. Never and no more was my past.

What did I do wrong to make him hate me so? Siphoning was something that Mikael did not understand, born without magic himself. Loathing was all that I could feel when I thought of my mother and my father. Their cold, dead eyes staring back at a six year old version of myself. Haunted wasn't what I could call these memories, not anymore. They had been washed away by so many years of genuine normalcy in vampire life. No longer was I beaten to the cusp of mortality on a weekly basis, now only hunted one a century. I ran and I ran as fast as I could, for what was to come when Mikael caught up hurt too much to even imagine.

In the time I was knocked out I dreamt of the clear winter-stained meadows of Mystic Falls. No blood stained the snow this early in the morning, Mikael was still asleep. My dream state did not recognize that this was in fact my earliest memory, before I had been burdened with the hate that came with my magical abnormality.

My clean feet skipped along the freezing white snow as my brothers started to wake from their rest. Finn came out first to watch me play, cheering me on as we made snow angels. Rebekah and Nik made sure that the two of us didn't get into too much trouble, with Rebekah showing me the snowball that she made. Kol came out last, always sleeping in during the winter months, to show us the things he could do with his magic. Henrik, the baby brother I had longed for in my earliest years, tugged at my waist whenever I would stray too far from him.

Even when Mikael came out to make sure that we didn't ruin ourselves, we were not afraid. My best memory had to have been my first, when I was not scared of my own father, who doted on me and Henrik as his prized youngest children. Esther did not have the same air of disgust when she came my way, hugging me when I fell down in the cold snow and brushing the tears that stained my blushed cheeks.

As a family, we came in for dinner. Only now did Mikael show any hint of anger on his face, but only when Kol kept on messing with Finn's deer hide jacket. There was little discipline but a simple scolding, one of which I did not fear. His words did not cut me like the knives he used later in my childhood on my bare skin.

Rebekah had cried because Nik would not sleep next to her, so she came over to Finn, who was holding me in his young arms. Mikael did not tell his daughter to stop crying and instead asked Finn to stay with her for the night as well. Esther did not comment on the matter, but gave us an extra blanket and sent us her love through a single kiss planted on each of our heads.

That night was different from the ones I had known months later. Warmth coated my arms as Finn sang Rebekah and I a lullaby. Heat flooded my chest as my elder sister braided my hair as I finally gave into deep sleep.

It was the last time I had ever gotten that same tranquil sleep, for the mornings to come shed blood on the pristine snow that was my innocence.

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Speckled light filled my vision as my eyes opened, almost unable to see what was right in front of me. Old chains long rusted lined the walls, concrete flooring making my knees want to bleed. This was like that of a torture chamber thought up by someone with less than questionable moral character.

It felt just like home.

"You're awake," a man said from the doorway. Tall and packed to the bone with muscle, this man must have been turned simply to become an immortal bodyguard. Or prison warden, there wasn't much of a difference nowadays. "We would have brought you here normally if you had been willing."

"Keeping me against my will or taking me here in order to trap me with my consent is the same thing, child," the man did not not make a single noise of protest at the name, his gaze hardening as I let out a small chuckle. "If you think for one second that I am not valuable enough to be rescued, you'd be a moron. Of course, I already think you're of below average intelligence."

Playing myself off as an object had not been necessary since the mid fifteenth century, but I had more than myself to look after. I had not been fed in a while and I had children who needed their mother to provide for them. Not wishing to fail another child, being a little drama queen for a few hours would prove to be a most degrading but useful skill to have acquired.

I loved the way that I could play this man into letting me go. Likely on vervain but still vulnerable, I could see the wedding ring on his finger, although in slight agony against his bone that wished to escape from the small band of gold and other metals.

"Married men are always fun," he let in a small breath and I knew I had already gotten inside of his head. Means of distraction would work best for me now. "That is, unless the lucky man or woman isn't in the picture anymore. If that is the case, you have my condolences."

"Condolences from an Original mean nothing," his words, directly used to harm me, did nothing.

"I could give you my word but just from that last little line of yours I know that means nothing to you," I chuckled as I pulled against my chains. "Bring me my son."

"We don't take orders-" I cut him off.

"Bring me my son, or I will break out of these chains and bring him your head after I tear you apart and bring you to wherever that dead lover of yours is," he snarled at my comments, but I just rolled my eyes. "My son is my son and he will see that he is wrong or I will have to mourn his loss once more. Simple as that. Bring him to me at once. If you do not wish to go outside of this holding cell you can release me from these chains. I give you my word that my son will be the one I go to."

The tall man opened up my chains. I smirked and headed out the door, careful so as to not alert any of my son's guards.

Charm always works.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄, Stefan and DamonWhere stories live. Discover now