chapter twenty three
klefan
━✧━
"I'M HERE! Your lives have been blessed with my presence," Jordanna grinned down at Alaric and Stefan as she sauntered her way to the cellar in the Salvatore Boarding House—where Alaric was being held prisoner as they waited for his freaky alter-ego to pop up.
The two men turned to face the witch, nodding in greeting before turning back to their conversation. "Before what?" Alaric asked the vampire cautiously.
"Before we have to resort to other methods," Stefan responded curtly as he peered over the bars to get a better look at the history teacher.
"So, you're worried that you're gonna' have to torture me?" Alaric raised his eyebrows. "You don't think Damon could've done that?"
Jordanna grimaced, the thought of Damon made her sick.
What a repulsive creature.
"Elena's out of town with Damon," Stefan replied gruffly. "She needed to go on that road trip with Damon, no matter what I go through to get her back—fighting my blood lust, trying to gain control of my life again . . . none of that matters if she has feelings for someone else."
Jordanna narrowed her eyes, she could've sworn she threatened Damon if Stefan got hurt at the expense of his creepy obsession with the doppelganger. ( Stefan looked pretty hurt to her ).
Perhaps Damon needed to be told again.
"Aren't you tired of it?" Jordanna questioned as she stood besides the vampire, causing his head to turn her way. "The secrets . . . the constant worrying? Stefan, you're only gonna end up hurt if you carry on."
God, she hated Elena.
"I know, Jords," Stefan responded quietly. "But I love her."
Jordanna groaned.
"I'm gonna find you a nice, non-selfish girl and you can fall in love and live happily ever after."
Alaric snorted, "I don't think it works like that, JJ."
The witch shrugged. "I'll make it work like that. Anything to get doppelicious out of his thick skull." The history teacher laughed as Stefan groaned in annoyance when the Jones prodded the Salvatore's skull. "Anyways, I brought you this . . ." the girl pulled a large bottle of bourbon out of her bag, handing it to Alaric through the metal bars.
"Thank you," Alaric groaned dramatically. "I thought I'd go insane if I stayed in here sober."
"You and me both," Jordanna mumbled. She watched as Alaric cracked the bottle open before taking a large gulp of the alcohol—offering it to her afterwards. "Get me a glass, please," Jordanna smiled sheepishly, looking at her brooding best friend.
"No," Stefan frowned in annoyance. "Get one yourself."
"How rude!" Jordanna gasped loudly, hand over heart. "That's no way to treat a lady Stef, where're your manners?"
Stefan snorted, "you're far from a lady, JJ."
Jordanna's eyes widened mockingly, "rude! Get me a fucking glass Stefan Salvatore!"
"Alright, alright," Stefan held his hands up in surrender as the witch began smacking his chest harshly. "A glass coming your way, your majesty."
The witch grinned as she watched his retreating figure, "thanks bubs!"
✧
Jordanna, Stefan and Alaric all sat in the cellar talking—mainly Stefan and Alaric. Jordanna had zoned out of the conversation as she drummed her fingers on her knee out of boredom.
"Well this is depressing isn't it?" Klaus voiced as he stepped into the room, Jordanna's eyes drew to his like magnets, snapping her from a daze. The pair share a small smile before Klaus' lips upturned into a smirk. "Oh, and I found this upstairs," the hybrid pulled a stake out from behind his back, cocking an eyebrow at the three. "Now by my count, there should be one more."
Jordanna accidentally let a snort out, perhaps she had drank a little too much bourbon. The three went through the bottle she had brought and Stefan and Alaric, being the boring little pussies they were, denied anymore—leaving Jordanna to drink another bottle and a half by herself.
"Yeah, well it's gonna take a little more time," Stefan replied nonchalantly, tensing slightly.
"Why? Because we're waiting for this one to pass out?" Klaus gestured to Alaric. "No thanks, I think I'll just kill him."
"You will do no such thing," Jordanna slurred, whipping her head in his direction. "You touch one grey hair on his balding head and I will burn every painting you've ever painted!"
Klaus raised his eyebrows amusedly, "I can live with that."
"Well I can't," Jordanna snapped, her sunken eyes meeting Klaus'. "Did it occur to you that if you kill Ric you can't find the other fucking stake, huh? Or the fact that I will slice your throat open if you touch that man."
Klaus stared at Jordanna blankly, he clenched his jaw in annoyance, "right then, sweetheart, we'll do it your way. What do you suggest?"
Jordanna smiled smugly. "Stefano if you would," the witch gestured for the vampire to speak.
Stefan rolled his eyes, he really did not want to be stuck in the middle of a lovers spat. "When they staked Finn, they discovered that killing an Original vampire killed it's entire bloodline," Stefan tilted his head in thought as he tried to recall of the words his brother had told him. "Now, I don't know which one of you I'm descended from, but I'd really rather not find out by dying, so why don't we just find the stake, destroy it, so we can all be safe."
"So the fate of the entire vampire race depends on you finding a stake?" Klaus asked with a brow raised. "And to get it we need you to pass out," he nodded his head in Alaric's direction. "Which means I feel totally justified doing this."
Swiftly Klaus sped forward, wrapping his hands around Alaric's neck—successfully snapping it in one quick motion.
"There," Klaus grinned, looking down at the crumpled body. "Sleeping like a baby."
Jordanna rolled her eyes, "really?"
Klaus smirked mockingly.
She narrowed her eyes at the hybrid, "you're all boring me now. I'm getting another drink."
The witch brushed past the two, finding her way to the main room—tensing slightly as an arm draped over her shoulders. "Make me one, would you love?" His hot breath fanned the side of her face, lips hovering over her ear.
"No, I'm not a fucking maid."
"Certainly not," Klaus chuckled deeply, sending vibrations down her spine. The hybrid watched from over her shoulder as she poured herself a glass of bourbon. He rolled his eyes slightly as she lifted the glass to her lips, without giving her a second to drink any he snatched the glass from her grip—downing the contents.
"Hey!-" The witch snapped as she turned to face him, a cheeky grin sat on his lips. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all," he smirked. His hand rested on her hip, drawing circles on her bare skin.
"You're so fucking annoying sometimes," Jordanna grumbled, fingers fumbling with his necklace in aggravation.
"You've said on many occasions," Klaus' smirk widened, his blue eyes meeting hers. The hybrid leaned in, bringing his free hand up to her face — cupping her jaw. Their lips brushed together, sending a tingling sensation through Jordanna's body, they were practically touching as she pulled on his necklace — bringing him closer. The witch smirked as she abruptly pulled away, turning back to the drinks. "Really?" Klaus questioned in irritation, as she quietly laughed to herself.
"Next time don't touch my drink," the girl spoke over her shoulder, sending him a victorious smile.
Klaus shook his head in disbelief, "now, now-"
"Nope," Jordanna placed a finger over her lips in a 'shush' manner. "No talking. Your voice gives me a headache."
"Unbelievable."
✧
Jordanna laid her head on Stefan's lap in the floor of the cellar as they waited for Alaric to wake up. Klaus had left a while ago to burn the white oak stake.
The Jones had her eyes closed as she boredly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, while the other hand was accompanied with a glass of bourbon. The witch remained unfazed as Alaric abruptly shot up from his place on the bed with a loud gasp.
"Welcome back," Stefan glanced over at Alaric, closing his book.
"What happened? Did I—uh?" Alaric asked as he rubbed his neck with a grimace.
"No," Jordanna told him, lifting her body off of Stefan's legs. "You were dead for, like, ages."
"But, uh, on the plus side I did almost finish reading Moby Dick," Stefan commented as he rose to his feet, walking towards the history teacher.
"This is stupid," Alaric grumbled. "Evil me or whatever you want to call him, he's not gonna make an appearance. Why would he? I mean, the best hiding place is the one where you can't find the person who hid it."
"I know," Stefan sighed in defeat.
"So, how do you want to do this?" Alaric asked, looking between Stefan and Jordanna as she got up.
Stefan shook his head, "I don't want to do any of this."
Alaric looked towards Jordanna, the witch shook her head. "Look, you want the stake right?"
"Yes, but-"
"But, nothing. Come on, I train you Jordanna, you have a lot of pent up anger. You're always holding back when we fight, so don't hold back this time."
"Ric," Jordanna had an uneasy look on her face. "I don't know about this."
"Hit me, Jordanna," Alaric demanded, taking off his ring.
"Are you fucking stupid? You need that ring you dumb-fuck."
"Alaric-"
"No, what I need is hope that my alter ego doesn't have a death wish," Alaric cut Stefan off. "So, I'm taking bets that my dark side has a sense of self-preservation. So let's see if he defends himself against death."
The witch stared at him blankly, she wished she stayed in bed.
"Jordanna."
"Hit me."
She inhaled sharply as Alaric repeated himself over and over again, louder each time, causing irritation to bubble within the Jones.
She clenched her jaw, inhaling sharply and after a hesitant moment she harshly swung her fist at his jaw—a loud crack shortly followed along.
✧
"You're not putting enough into this," Alaric glared at the witch.
"If I put anymore into it, I'll break your spine," she deadpanned with a huff, pushing her hair from her face. "You're old Ric, fragile. I don't want you hurting your back or anything." Her teeth gritted as she slammed her fist in his face, using more force. Alaric fell to the ground, blood poured from his nose—he let out a grunt as her foot harshly collided with his ribs.
"Well don't back down now," Alaric told her, noticing the hesitation.
"God, you're irritating. You know that?"
"Just give in, Jords! Come on!"
"Ric-"
"Do it for Caroline! For Stefan, Rebekah. Or what about Elijah and Kol? Hell, even do it for Klaus. Before my alter ego drives that stake through his heart . . . and you lose the few people who actually give a damn about you."
Silence enveloped the cellar, a tense air hovering.
Jordanna's breathing was uneven as she stared at the hunter with a blank expression, her head tilted in thought.
Fuck it, her brain told her.
And so she did.
Her hand raised and Alaric's body slammed into the wall, back and forth, over and over again. Pained groans leaving the man. Her hand slid down to her leg, pulling a small knife from her heeled boots. Another hit—followed by another. Gripping onto his shoulders she sent a harsh kick to his abdomen, watching as he fell to the ground. Her hand gripped onto the collar of his shirt, dragging his body up the brick wall—knife pressed to his throat. Blood trickled down his neck as she applied more pressure, a small puncture wound rested on his jugular. At this point Stefan had to leave the room, the blood coming from practically everywhere on Alaric's body was sending him over the edge.
A cold laugh escaped the man.
Well hello, evil Alaric.
"You're so weak," he remarked, eyes darkening. "Look at you, one of natures so called 'protectors.' Witches are supposed to restore the balance—yet here you are fraternizing with the enemy. Siding with people like them."
"You," Jordanna whispered in slight awe, roughly throwing his body to the ground.
"Me," Alaric grinned, a dark glint in his eyes. The witch raised her hand causing Alaric to whither on the floor in pain, blood poured from his ears as Jordanna picked up her knife—driving it into his shoulder.
His screams went through Jordanna as she cringed. "Where's the stake?" She whispered, voice low.
"You're pathetic," Alaric spat.
"Where's the stake, Ricky?" Jordanna asked again, slowly losing patience as she twisted the knife deeper in his flesh.
"You know you're all gonna burn, ashes to dust."
"I will kill you," she leant down, harshly grabbing his face so she could look him in the eyes. They were cold—his eyes. It felt empty, he felt empty. Like she was staring into an abyss. "Tell me where the stake is Alaric, or so help me God-"
"Go to hell," he whispered in a slight chuckle, thrashing around in her grip.
"Fine," Jordanna spoke boredly. Alaric's eyes followed her figure as she paced up and down the small cellar—the click of the heels on her boots echoing after her. She huffed, facing the man with a malicious smile, her eye twitched as she locked eyes with Alaric, balling her hand into a fist she watched in astonishment as Alaric began choking—slowly losing air.
"It was nice knowing you Ric," she taunted, smile only growing as his gasps became louder. "But I'm gonna' have to kill you now . . . so bye, I guess."
"Wait- wait," Alaric choked out, taking a large breath as she un-balled her fist. "It's in the cave . . ."
Jordanna tilted her head as he began to chuckle.
"Where no vampire can get it."
"I'm a witch, dumbass, I can get it, but thanks for the co-operation, Ric," Jordanna winked as she threw his body to the ground with a wave of her hand. She exited the cellar with a sigh, she really needed more to drink.
"That wasn't too hard was it?" A voice spoke up, startling her slightly as she sauntered into the parlour with Stefan—who waited outside the cellar for her, the scent of the blood being too much for him but he didn't want to be too far away as he was worried of her safety—leaving her in there with Alaric.
"What now?" Stefan questioned as he stopped besides Jordanna, cautious of Klaus and Rebekah.
"I'll get the stake, duh," Jordanna shrugged.
"You will do no such thing," Rebekah scolded, in a condescending tone.
Jordanna pulled a face. "I'm sorry, what?"
"It's not safe for you, we don't know what he has hidden down there. I will retrieve the stake."
Jordanna looked from Stefan, to Klaus back to Rebekah with furrowed brows. "Are you having a blonde moment or something? Is that what this is?"
Rebekah merely rolled her eyes.
"You can't get in blondie," Jordanna told her best friend, face contoured in confusion.
Rebekah grinned, "I'll be taking your hunter friend on a lovely little trip down to the cave."
"Don't you think I-"
Rebekah practically skipped her way down to the basement, Jordanna raised her brows at the enthusiasm. "Okay, then. Have fun, I guess."
✧
Jordanna hummed as she poured three glasses of bourbon—filling hers with more than theirs, obviously.
"Do you ever stop?" Stefan groaned as Jordanna handed him a glass. He and Damon were surely soon to run out of alcohol considering how much the witch goes through.
"Fuck off," Jordanna quipped, sending him a sarcastic smile as she proceeded to hand Klaus a glass.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Klaus smirked as their fingers brushed.
The witch downed her drink as Rebekah brought a blood covered Alaric up from the cellar. His gaze landed on Jordanna, sending her a distasteful look.
"That's a little gratuitous, don't you think, Stefan?" Klaus smirked as he looked over Alaric. "I would have been more gentle."
"Liar," Jordanna whispered in his ear from over his shoulder.
"I- uh, I didn't do that, that was all Jordanna."
"Snitch," Jordanna scowled, sending Stefan a look.
Klaus' gaze fixated on Jordanna, "I'm impressed."
Though he did not want to admit her violent side merely turned him on.
"Why thank you, Nik," Jordanna grinned her fucking tits off. She loved being complimented on her . . . work.
"I'm gonna take him to the caves," Rebekah informed them with a playful smile before turning back to Alaric. "You're gonna go inside and fetch me the stake and if you think you're gonna hide, you're wrong." A sweet smile laid on the blonde's face as she shoved Alaric out of the Salvatore house.
"I know about your brother's little mission to Denver," Klaus turned his attention to Stefan. "He failed. Not that that's news anymore."
Klaus' face held an amused smiled.
"So, what are you gonna' do now, Klaus? You gonna' kill me?" Stefan questioned, unamused. Truth be told, he didn't know exactly what Elena and Damon went to Denver for. As far as Stefan was concerned they went to protect Jeremy and figure out Elena's feelings towards Damon. He was stuck in this situation—Jordanna was his best friend and Klaus, ( well Klaus was complicated ) they were friends once upon a time and recently he let his feelings for Elena cloud over that. But then there was Damon, his brother and Elena the love of his life.
He just wanted to live, live where he had his brother, girlfriend and best friend—not stuck in the middle of their pathetic war. While he didn't want Jordanna to die, he didn't want Damon to die—I mean he was his brother, but with how Damon was acting he was treading on very thin ice.
"I haven't actually decided yet," Klaus grinned smugly as he grasped Jordanna's wrist—pulling her down beside him as he took a seat on the couch.
"Ah, sure you have," Stefan crossed his arms over his chest. "See, you've had every chance and every excuse imaginable to do it, but yet you haven't. Which means you don't want to," Stefan spoke matter of factly, a cocky grin laid on his face.
"You know something, you're right," Klaus rested his arm on the back of the couch. "You see, I'm still waiting for my old friend to come back. By the looks of it, he's just beneath the surface—waiting to come and play. Isn't that right, ripper?"
"Can't you two just kiss and make up?" Jordanna smiled sweetly before wincing as Klaus grabbed a strand of her hair and tugged on it, harshly.
Stefan shot Jordanna a look before he spoke. "I've been fighting that part of myself, thinking that if I repressed it then it would go away. But it won't, and now that I've accepted it, it can't control me and neither can you. So unless you're gonna stake me, why don't you get the hell out of my house?"
"Well done, Nik. You pissed him off," Jordanna groaned in annoyance. So much for the 'Salvatore-Jones sleepover', they had planned.
✧
Jordanna's body flopped onto the couch as she and Klaus returned to the Mikaelson mansion—as result of putting the younger Salvatore in a bad mood Klaus had taken Jordanna to the Mystic Grill for some food and promised her a drink.
The hybrid placed a glass on the table in front of her, lifting her legs so he could take the seat besides her; his fingers flickered boredly with the lighter the witch had previously left at the mansion from their last rendezvous .
Her focus was solely on the drink as she pulled a cigarette from her bag, ignoring the heated stare Klaus was giving her. The raven-haired girl placed the cigarette between her lips—leaning forward, she stared at Klaus expectantly.
"You shouldn't be smoking, it's bad for you," he advised as he also lent in—lighting the cigarette for her.
The witch merely gave him a look, "and you shouldn't be hanging around young girls, Nikky." Jordanna winked playfully, "it's frowned upon."
"You're 18."
Jordanna squinted her eyes.
"You're over a thousand."
"Touché."
{AN}
and heres another episode of georgie doesnt know how to end a chapter xoxo
but we move ig
(edited 08/03/22)