This book is based and inspired by the Originals, with a tinge of the Vampire Diaries. I suggest that you watch the shows to understand some occurrences.
All rights go to The Originals television show on the CW, and Lisa Jane Smith (the author), except the characters and events that are purely of my imagination. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, OR ELSE YOU'LL BE REPORTED.
I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IF ANYONE IS COPYING SECTIONS FROM THIS BOOK THAT ARE OF MY INVENTION, PLEASE TAKE ACTION.
(EDITED)
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The song of the chapter is: Burn by Ellie Goulding
When the light started out they don't know what they heard,
Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world,
We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky,
'Cause we got the fire, fire, fire,
Yeah we got the fire, fire, fire.
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CHAPTER TWENTY SIX ― BURNING EMBERS
MANY THINGS HAD CHANGED since the occurrences at the bayou. The day after Nik had healed me, I had returned to the Mikaelson Mansion, just to see how things were going. Imagine my surprise when I found movers carrying pieces of exquisite furniture out of the Mansion. Imagine my anxiety when I couldn't find Hayley anywhere.
My conversation with Rebekah turned out to be something like this: Rebekah's eye twitches as she crosses her arms. A man ― a mover, actually ― was carrying a large painting out of the house. Elijah, newly-healed, stood outside overseeing the transportation, a guilty expression painted on his face.
She lets out a loud sigh for the billionth time, and I groan exasperatedly, rolling my eyes. "Rebekah, stop twitching!"
"I'm not twitching!" She defends herself. "Oh yeah?" I raise a sceptical eyebrow, "try telling that to your right eye." Self-consciously, she raises a finger and pats down her eyelids. Suppressing a smile, I turn to the the mover's van.
"I loved that painting!" She pipes up after a few silent moments, "I paid for it, and Nik has no right to take it away from this house!" I snort in reply. "Somehow, Becks, I hardly think you've paid for anything in your life."
Sending a fake glare my way, she huffs and stalks off to her bedroom, dragging me with her. On the way there, I briefly peer into Hayley's room and notice that none of her things are there. Where was Hayley? Where was Nik?
"What happened last night, Becks?" I ask. Nik had won over the keys to Marcel's kingdom, and he was surely going to live in the Abattoir. It was clearly evident that something happened between the Mikaelson siblings because they were stuck here, in the Mikaelson Mansion.
She sits heavily on the edge of her bed, fingering the sheet's end. "Hey, where were you last night? I mean, your brother got bitten, I'd think you'd want to be there to help him." I say evenly.
Silence.
"Rebekah?" I voice. "I was with Marcel yesterday, at the Abattoir." She confesses. I frown. "Wait, do you mean that ― that you helped set Marcel's army against Klaus?" Once again, silence greets me, and I purse my lips in disapproval, burning holes in the floor. "Why, why would you do that?"
I was furious with her, of course I was, but for the sake of maintaining my identity, I couldn't be obvious about it. Apparently, what with Rebekah was quite literally fraternising with the enemy, and Elijah believing the worst in Nik regarding his child, Nik was beyond hurt.
He was hurt that his big brother believed Hayley over him. He was hurt that Rebekah chose Marcel's side. So, since he finally got the empire he wanted, he moved Hayley to the Abattoir and both of them were living there now.
Elijah and Rebekah were in disgrace, but Nik's temper had quieted, especially after they found the ring. Mind you, I never saw it myself, but apparently the siblings (on Hayley's wishes. I wasn't important or trustworthy enough to be included by my ex-best friend) had found an antique that belonged to Nik's bloodline in the bayou. Now the wolves were under Nik's protection.
"So what exactly is New Orleans celebrating today?" I ask Rebekah, as I rifle through horrible frilly dresses. "It's a yearly reminder of how woman can be oppressed by selfish men and how they can triumph when brave enough to fight for themselves."
"Sounds interesting." I nod. "It is." Rebekah grins widely, "I was there. Saved the girls from horny old men, took them to safety."
I stare at her weirdly. "The words 'horny' and 'old men' when used in the same sentence is capable enough to give me nightmares. Please don't say that ever again." I shudder, while she laughs.
I search for more appropriate clothing, but I can't help but internally cringe whenever I see one. I suppose I could always call Seraphina, but I highly doubted she had clothes catering to the nineteenth-century. Rebekah and I were on the same wave-length because she was muttering under her breath.
"Talking about the clothes, or something else?" Marcel suddenly appears. I groan internally. I felt very uncomfortable around him now. He was someone I hated, but in the end, he told me the truth. However, Rebekah, whom I've been getting very close lately, lied to my face.
"Why, feeling insecure? This festival might as well be in my honour. I need a proper costume, so bugger off." Rebekah scoffs. "Bekah . . ." Marcel puts a hand on her arm, but she shakes him off. "Don't." She says coldly. "You made your choice. You and Klaus are best friends again, you've relinquished your right to touch me."
Sadness flickers in Marcel's eyes, and I realise that he genuinely cares about her. He opens his mouth to say something, but his phone begins to ring. He shoots an apologetic look to my friend who mutters sarcastically, "I wonder who that could be."
He accepts the call, putting his phone on his ear. Putting on my vampire hearing, under the pretence of checking out some accessories, I hear Nik on the other end of the line.
"We have a bit of an issue. It seems our little bird has flown the coop."
Davina.
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"Davina might listen to you." Elijah frowns. I let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "Davina? Listen to me?" I fling my hands to my sides, trying to discern him. "Davina is Marcel's protégé. He knows more about her than I do. He should go talk to her."
Marcel sighs, rubbing the back of his head. "She doesn't trust me any more. She's stubborn and she won't listen to me."
"Why? What happened?" I inquire. "I didn't tell her that Agnes died." Marcel informs me with a sliver of guilt in his brown eyes. "She was so pissed that the one witch who was annihilating her liberty was dead. She is free and I didn't tell her." He ended his sentence with another sigh and even though I was not on good terms with Marcel, I did relate to how he was feeling. Knowing that you failed someone you loved. And he loved her like a daughter, that much was obvious.
Maybe he isn't as bad as I thought.
"So why do you think that she'll listen to me?" I return to the topic of conversation. "When Hayley was still linked to Sophie Devereaux, you were the one who went and talked to her. You hit her emotionally, and Davina doesn't strike me as the person who would just help anyone."
"She didn't do it for me, she did it for her own morality. I told her that it was the human thing to do, to save a pregnant woman's life and her child. That's all." I shrug. "Regardless," Nik speaks up for the first time since I entered the Abattoir. "You hit some kind of emotional nerve with the girl; you can do it again."
I shuffle uncomfortably. Something has changed between Nik and I. Us. Never thought I would say that again. An unspoken agreement, a whisper in the wind. Three nights ago, he saved my life and my sanity by feeding me his blood. Blood sharing was special. Granted, I was dying, he might have just given me his blood because I was helpful in situations like these, but . . . Niklaus Mikaelson didn't just save anyone.
Right?
Plus, I wasn't completely comfortable with this task. Ask me to fight, I would. Ask me to knock some sense into a teenage girl hopped up on magic . . . meh.
"I'll try, I suppose. But where is she anyway? Do you have any leads?" I rub my arm, realising that this was the first solo ― mission, for lack of better word ― I was given. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Fantastic, they were beginning to trust me. But I am going to leave in a few months. Plus, I didn't want to be their little bitch.
"Elijah should know." Marcel pipes up with a hard voice, his eyes narrowed. "She lied to my face so she could stay up there, thinking that you'd help her control her magic. How do we know you didn't take her?"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Davina is an ally to the Mikaelsons. Why would Elijah jeopardise that alliance by kidnapping her?"
"Davina is not an ally to the Mikaelsons. She's an ally to me." Marcel stresses. "Maybe she only helped you to save your werewolf," he sends a nod to Nik, "because it was beneficial to her."
"No wonder she doesn't want to talk to you, Marcel." I raise my voice. "She helped us because it was the right thing to do, not because it would amount to some reward. I had, like, two conversations with the girl and I know better than you." I turn towards Elijah, determination set on my face. "I'll do it. Davina is teenage girl. I don't want her to be manipulated any more. If we're going to make her an ally, we'll do it the right way."
Elijah gives me a little smile. It might not mean anything to any of his acquaintances, but it meant plenty to me. He was happy with my decision. I hadn't made anyone feel happy lately. It felt good. And after the conversation we shared in the bayou, I felt like we understood each other. Things between us were not the same, and I'm not sure it will ever be, but it was healing gradually.
Baby steps.
"I have a witch friend." I reveal. "Maybe she can help us by performing a locator spell." Nik and Elijah nod in agreement. "Go ahead. In case your plan doesn't work, we'll prepare for a plan B." I send the trio a curt nod and turn around, walking towards the old chests that I had seen Rebekah and Hayley rifle through.
I bite my lower lip, actually feeling a measure of fear to call Rose. I wasn't scared of her, or her Dwayne's threats, per se. I was just fearing for the overwhelming guilt I'd feel later on. Shakily reaching for my mobile in my bag, I slide my finger across the screen, staring at it for a few seconds.
Come on, Mel, I encourage, you were kidnapped, poisoned, beaten up and hallucinogenic just three days ago. You can amend things with Rose.
Beginning to dial the first three numbers, an unknown number flashes on my screen. Breathing a sigh of relief, I don't even care who mistakenly called me, pressing the green option. "Hello?" I call. "Melissa, I need your help."
Recognising the female voice, I sigh again, this time exasperatedly. "What a surprise." I mutter dryly. "Here was me thinking that we were going to catch a movie together." Ignoring my sarcasm like I expected her to, she barrels on.
"I know Davina's on the loose." I pause, lifting the phone away from my ear for a few seconds. What a coincidence that just as I was given a task to locate the teenage brunette that the witch bitch was asking me for my assistance. "Go on." I permit.
"I need something from you so that the witches can complete the Harvest."
"Why the fuck would I help you with completing the bloody Harvest? Why would I single-handedly give you Davina? She's not even lived long enough to consider her life a life. I'm not giving her to you." I answer flatly.
"It's not Davina I'm after." She reveals before pausing. "Sophie, your sister hexed Hayley, which nearly got her killed by your crazy-ass Elders ―"
"Hey, have some respect for them!"
"― you've been against us the entire time. Why would I agree to give the French Quarter witches more power?"
"You'll help me because if we don't complete the Harvest, our access to magic will fade for good, which doesn't bode well for Hayley's family." Sophie speaks. "What do you know about her family?" A crease forms between my eyebrows.
"She's from the Crescent Wolf bloodline. Marcel forced a witch to curse them so they'd be trapped in wolf form."
"Okay, and?" I drawl, not sure where she was going with this. "My bloodline executed that curse. Help me complete the Harvest, and I'll undo the curse for your best friend."
I inhale deeply, taking a moment to think. Of course, by helping Hayley, I'd be getting into her good books, but . . . I wasn't sure I wanted to. It would feel like I had bribed her, and if our friendship would ever resume, it would have to be pure because we both wanted to. Plus, how good would it be anyway? Too many things had been said between us, things that I could always overlook, sure, but would constantly be thinking about in the recesses of my thoughts.
The vase had been thrown out of the window. It had cracked into smithereens once it touched the concrete ground. We could attempt to glue it back together, but the cracks, regardless of the glue, would always be visible.
Maybe we were better off this way.
"Not good enough, Sophie." I refuse, "I don't really care whether her family members are in wolf form or not." A deep sigh can be heard from the other line, and I'm about to end the call, when she speaks up again. "I can offer you something else."
I roll my eyes. "What could you possibly have that I want?"
"Your destiny."
Okay, let me get this one thing clear. I did not believe in destiny. I did not believe in fate or prophecy. I believed in choices, that choices were the hands that we dealt with in life, that they held the repercussions we would have to accept or fight against. Our choices weathered and formed our path, not some hippy, magic-orb belief.
But we were dealing with magic here.
And what was the harm of knowing some more information that could possibly save my life in the future? Moreover, I was dying of curiosity. Since the day I met the younger Devereaux, she had been talking about this greater path that I would have to take. They said that curiosity killed the cat. But what they forgot was that we were fluid, dynamic, flexible.
As long as you were never caught, as long as you ran beside the shadows, not against them, curiosity would not hurt anyone in any damn way.
"Fine. What do you need?" I say. I can almost hear her smile from the other end. I hated when people knew things that I didn't. It made you vulnerable, susceptible to lowering yourself to deals like this. It was disgusting.
"I need to consecrate the remains of a powerful witch so I can absorb her magic. I know of one whose body was never found. Her name is Celeste DuBois." Sophie informs me. I wrinkle my nose. "Who the fuck is she?"
"A powerful witch."
I raise my eyes towards the heavens. "My, my, Sophie." I state extremely dryly, "your trolling skills are admirable indeed."
"Thank you. I appreciate the acclaim coming from you." She responds with an equal amount of sarcasm. "She has a common friend with you."
"Friends?" I ask. "All my friends are dead, Soph. Unless you count Mrs. Harolds who cleans my room at the hotel. But I highly doubt that she would fraternise around with witches." I add as an afterthought.
"Elijah." She replies monotonously. I pause abruptly, all the sarcasm I owned flying straight out the window."Just how friendly were they?" I ask slowly, narrowing my eyes. "Very friendly." Sophie stresses.
Shit. How would I ask Elijah about an old-flame who had died in a mysterious way? Besides, according to them, I was supposed to call Rose to locate Davina. What should I do? Chose my own selfish way to find out about myself or help the Mikaelsons? The Mikaelsons, who were just starting to trust me.
But I wanted to find out more about myself. I needed to.
"What do I need to do?" I ask, prepared to go against what the Originals told me to do. Well, I'm only re-prioritising my priorities. I'll find Davina. After I investigate Celeste DuBois.
"Story goes that when she died, he buried her in a secret spot at her request. All you have to do is find out where."
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"Hayley?" I knock on her door. I enter, and see her re-organising her closet. She turns around and we look at each other for a few, long moments. It was the first time we acknowledged each other since our fight in the bayou where I told her that I had given up on us. Her hazel green eyes are ajar, like a door. I could see the relief in them that I was okay. But there were more things behind the door than in front of me.
In the end, I suppress a sigh. I was right: our friendship was a cracked vase. I wasn't sure that we'd ever get past what we said to each other. We wouldn't be as close as we were before, and it saddened me to no end, like a void dam. She used to be my best friend, the girl whom I'd call over for a party, who I'd talk to about my problems. But if she couldn't respect the fact that I was not prepared to indulge her of my past when I wasn't ready, then I would not force it.
I was trying so hard, to repair what had been damaged. However, I've understood that if this was to work, there should be effort from both sides. Currently, I was the only one who seemed to be compromising for her, and pregnant or not, there were limits.
I will maintain my plan to stay in New Orleans until she gives birth out of respect for our past, because I will always care. But there wasn't going to be a future with her. Of course I will always miss her, our closeness, our stupid secrets. But perhaps this line of life had run its course and it was time to move on. I had Aaron, I had Rebekah.
I'd be okay.
"You look better." Hayley stated. I nod, smiling slightly. "I convinced Klaus to feed me his blood. It was a bitch to get there, but in the end . . ." I spread my arms, "I'm still here. That's what matters."
Silence.
"Have you heard? Davina's gone." I make conversation. "Yeah, I know." Hayley turns to her closet and begins to fold some maternity dresses. "But I think it was only a matter of time."
I frown, crossing my arms. "What do you mean?"
"Davina was used by witches, lied to by Marcel, threatened by Klaus. She's angry. She would have found out that that Agnes bitch had been killed eventually. I just speeded up the process by telling her."
"You told Davina about Agnes?" I question rhetorically. "You do know that it makes you indirectly responsible for her disappearance."
She laughs softly. "Yeah, I know. But I'm under the protection of the Originals." She rubs her swollen belly fondly. "Nothing's going to happen to me."
"Just . . . just don't abuse that power, yeah?" I say gently, leaning against the door frame. My phone vibrates, and a message flashes on the screen.
From: Unknown Number
To: Melissa Fiorelli
Have you found out CB's burial spot yet?
I exhale, knowing that I needed to step into dangerous territory fast. "Hayley, do . . . do you know anything about someone called Celeste?"
Hayley slowly puts her shirt down and turns towards me. I suspend my breath in apprehension. "Why do you want to know?" She asks in suspicion. "Oh, I just heard from some talk from the witches about her. I know that she was in some kind of relationship with Elijah ―" Even as the words fell from my mouth I knew that I wasn't lessening any kind suspicion with her.
"Why would I know anything about her?" She returns to folding her clothes, and I resist the urge to shake her. "C'mon Hayley. I've seen the way the two of you act around each other." I scoff, "I know that you stayed beside Elijah's side when he was bitten. Maybe he hallucinated or dreamt about her. I thought you'd know."
"Even if I did know anything about this Celeste chick, why do you need to know?"
I consider telling her about Sophie's call. Truly, I do. But she deliberately called me instead of Hayley for a reason. Maybe it wasn't worth it. "Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies." I say smoothly, although I knew that it wasn't going to work.
"Then don't ask me your questions, Melissa."
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Coughing at the dust being dispersed in the air, I wave a hand in front of me to thin it out. Rooting deep into the drawer, I procure a handful of journals. "Rule number one, Eli: when you're an all powerful vampire, never write journals for your enemies to find." I mutter.
Dialling Sophie's number quickly, I jam the phone between my ear and my shoulder. "Soph, hey. Do you have any idea what year this Celeste woman died?"
"Well, I'm not sure about her death, but she lived around the 1800s." Sophie voices. "1800s, 1800s." I mumble, searching for the dates on the journals. Eventually, I find a black one, nearly brown with age, a golden lettering on the hard cover.
Flicking through the pages, I skim for Celeste's name. " 'Celeste entrances me . . . she is perfection . . . she is dead. Even as the sun rises, I see only night. But for the promise I made to her, that in death, I would bury her far from the mayhem of witches, vampires, and men . . .' " I read out. Not only was I feeling mass guilt, I was also uncomfortable since I was trespassing the elder Mikaelson's privacy, something I never wished to do.
"Okay, Soph, not sure how you'll be able to find her grave, but apparently the witch bitch was buried between two oak saplings at Le Guignol."
"Two oak saplings?" Sophie says slowly, the words rolling off her tongue. "Yeah, that's what I said." I say patiently. "Melissa, that was nearly two hundred years ago! The saplings are all trees now, how the hell am I supposed to find it?" She snaps.
I shrug flippantly. "Hey, my job was to research her location. Yours is to find it. You want to be the all-powerful witch, keep looking. Say a prayer. Have a little faith. Oh and," I add before selecting the red button, "I'm holding you on to that deal. Don't forget that you owe me." I snarl.
Davina, here I come.
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My muscles tense with each passing step, my breath laboured. I could hear everything that was happening in there, sense ever movement, every splatter of blood on the ground.
Every scream.
"You pretend to be so confident, but I know the truth! You're afraid everyone can see what you really are ― an animal!" Torturous screams wail through the cold night, twisting my soul. I immediately recognised those agonised yells. They belonged to Nik. I remember, when he used to be the balance of a wolf and vampire a thousand years ago; the cunning of a vampire, the ferality of a werewolf. Those screams gave me nightmares, more than I care to admit.
"A beast. Why don't you show us your real face?" More screams. I wince. Dark hair whips as I arrive around the corner, staring at the sight before me. Timothy, her best friend slash crush slash possible boyfriend is crouching on an alcove high above ground playing the violin in a festive manner, ironically coinciding with the melancholy atmosphere. Elijah, Marcel and Nik are lying on their knees staring at the brunette adolescent witch, whose face is twisted in anger.
My breath hitches when I see Nik's face contorted in pain as Davina forces him to change, to transform into a motley aberration of a combination between wolf and vampire. The yellow eyes gleam, but instead of them reeking of their usual fierceness, they are narrowed in quasi-deliria. His face is half smooth with his normal skin and half haired by the darkness of his wolf form's fur.
Freak. Aberration. Abomination.
Monster.
Flicking her wrist to the side, a sickening crack echoes through the room, and almost like a dazing melody, a violin piece that plays alongside Timothy's, everything slows down. Even noise reaches my ears later than usual, a delay of transmission.
Nik, his golden hair sprawled on the ground.
"Don't. Call. Me. Father." He growls. The sound hits me first. The punch. Then the way, almost gracefully, Nik falls to the ground, his blonde hair spilling around him, like some sort of crazy halo. Then comes the blood, eating away at the tiles, mirroring the essence of the monster that distributed this torture, the monster who succumbed to his own pool of darkness.
"Davina." I whisper, walking out of the shadows. Looking back at me, I catch a glimpse of her eyes. They're mad, holding the same sort of vindictive curse that Tyler Lockwood held deep in his black heart. And I refused to let Davina fall into the same abyss of revenge, because once you embark on a course of vengeance, there's no going back.
Falling into Hell is easy. But it's the crawling back out that's the hard part.
"Stop this. This isn't you." I continue. "You don't know anything about me!" Letting out a hallowed scream of despair, Davina moves her arm and the wind is knocked out of me as her magic throws me onto a nearby wall. Sinking to the floor with a muffled thump, I groan as my spine throbs.
"You, Elijah, you call yourself the noble one. You looked me in the eyes and lied to my face. Pretended you wanted to help me." She laughs bitterly, turning towards the older Mikaelson. "It was Melissa who told me the truth. In fact, out of any of you, she's the only one who has!"
"Elijah Mikaelson, you're a killer just like your brother. For one thousand years, you've fed on innocent blood. Why don't you choke on it?" She growls, before twisting her wrist in a circular movement. A sick, wet, metallic smell chokes the room as Elijah begins to regurgitate blood, coughing and choking, trying and failing.
Me. Choking on Nik's blood, my vision fading.
"We can be together forever, now."
He smiles a bloody smile.
"Nik, please don't take this choice away from me, I don't want this life!" I gurgle, as I struggle to get away from this monster. He forcefully drags my chin upwards and jams his arm painfully against my mouth. Tears ooze out of my eyes and I suffocate as the hot blood pours drowningly down my throat, choking me.
"You're wrong." I say fighting through my dry throat. "What?" She snaps, holding Marcel down magically. "You're wrong." I repeat. "I know more about you than you think."
"What, that I'm the last Harvest girl? That I'm so powerful that everyone automatically wants me as an ally?" She spits out. I walk towards her slowly, my palms out. "No. Those things ― the Harvest girl, the most powerful witch ― they aren't you, because that girl who willingly saved a pregnant woman's life? That girl, that's who you are. You're not a killer."
Davina pauses, a child-like emotion playing on her face. Fear. Distrust. Anger, anger that is slowly dwindling away like burning embers as I put out the fire. "They manipulated me. They lied to me. They deserve this." Her voice trembles ever so slightly, but I hear it, the whisper of a tine.
"You're just a teenage girl who should be going to school, whose biggest worry is to pass her exams and how to sneak out to the latest party to meet her boyfriend. Shit has been thrown at you and you've risen stronger than before." I pause. "But you can either choose to manifest that strength into something that will destroy you, or you can use it to create your own path, your own future."
Now I am so close to her that I can see the tear flecks hanging on her eyelashes. I take her hands and hold them up. "Don't let them ruin you, Davina. Fight against it."
"Why are you saying these things?" She whispers softly, looking up at me. I bite my lip, wondering how to explain the feeling. "I was hurt in the worst way possible by someone I trust. I let it shatter me, and the emotions were so strong that they overcame my perception of life. I lost many years because of that." I choke up. "But I'm healing slowly because I've come to realise that through the thicket of villains and liars and killers, there are the people who love us.
At first, that might not seem like a lot, because there's always going to be that one person who seems to have it all. But the truth is, because you have such few people, you'll treasure them the most and they'll love you back preciously. Maybe," I flick my eyes meaningfully over at Timothy, "he can be a start to something new. You just have to take that chance, or otherwise other people will take it from you."
Davina sniffles, and I have an overwhelming desire to hug her and protect her from the world. Come on, Davina. Please believe me, I think desperately. Don't turn into Tyler Lockwood. Nik had twisted Tyler beyond repair, and he was twisting Davina too. But there was still time, time to rescue her back from her monsters.
A groan pierces the bubble of conversation and we both turn to the sound, which came from Marcel who was staked with an iron poker by the one and only Rebekah Mikaelson, followed by . . . Josh? Marcel falls unceremoniously unconscious to the ground.
Rebekah walks over to us, and shoots me a worried look as Davina wipes the tear tracks from her face. 'Is she okay?' Rebekah mouths. I shake my head, shrugging. Gently, Rebekah tugs Davina from my hold and catches Timothy after he jumps from the alcove.
Nodding at me in acknowledgement, Rebekah drags the 'children' out to show them something she wanted them to see.
In the meantime, I wait.
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It takes a while for the guys to stir awake. Suffice to say, they are very dazed and blood encrusted. "Took you long enough," I speak coldly. Before any of the men say anything back, Nik's phone begins buzzing.
"Rebekah, where are you?" He asks. An angry growl emits from the phone's speaker. "I'm with Davina, and she's dying because of your treachery." Alarmed, I look up, something bubbling in my stomach. I saved Davina, all for nothing! I thought I did something good for once, all for nothing! I'm still the sinner I was this morning, and nothing had changed.
"Well, I tried to talk to her, out of respect for Marcel, but she made it quite clear she is not our friend. My apologies if you thought she was yours." Nik grins diabolically. Hot tears well up in my eyes and I clench my fists. I did not expect him to be a saint, but what about his compassion? Davina was but a child. I thought Marcel was bad, but at least he knew where to draw the line for minors.
"Just tell me how to cure her. Vampire blood isn't working." Rebekah snaps.
"No. It wouldn't." Nik laughs. "You see, the poison I compelled Timothy to feed her is quite potent. It's just a matter of time for her."
"For both of them, you diabolical bastard. They're children. We could've dealt with her fairly!" His younger sister screams, her voice wobbling in rage. "There is no dealing with those who threaten us. Davina sealed her fate when she stood against me. This was her choice, not mine." Klaus enunciates clearly, as he ends the call.
Stony silence greets him, and he spreads his arms to his sides, that stupid, stupid grin still painted on his face. "Oh, come on. The stench of your judgement is overwhelming. Need I remind you that Davina just bested the lot of us? I did what had to be done. Don't worry, Elijah," He turns to face his older brother, a hint of mockery in his voice, "I remain as redeemable as ever."
"So you compelled that boy to poison Davina without consulting Marcel or myself." Elijah states evenly. But I can see through his visor, and he is seething with fury. Marcel walks to Nik, holding up a finger. "You know what the worst part is? It's that you're so predictable, I had to make an alliance with your brother, who I don't even like."
Nik blinks, an unamused expression resting on his features. "Judging by your expression, you have something you'd like to share."
"Damn straight, I do. I got a call from Kieran earlier, right after Sabine and some witches almost got their hands on Davina first." Marcel explains. He goes on to describe his treachery; how he sided with Sabine and got her to place a protective spell over Davina. A light feeling of happiness wells up in me. Thank God. So it wasn't for nothing after all.
Maybe, just maybe, I could still be redeemed.
Through the journey of the tale, Nik's face gets increasingly more and more tight. "So, when you slipped away to allegedly check on your Night Walkers, you were, in fact, colluding with a witch. That's very clever. I suppose I should be proud."
"Eh, I just wanted to make sure I had a fail-safe just in case, as Elijah expected, you started acting like you." Marcel bites out, before shaking his head and leaving. Nik scoffs. "Except that now you've involved the witches, who, last time I checked, were enemy to us all, to everything we have, and to our family!"
Elijah breathes heavily, a quiet furore in his eyes. "Davina is Marcel's family, Niklaus, or did that somehow slip your mind as you tried to take her life?" He pauses before saying, "You will call Rebekah. You'll tell her that Davina will recover. I do wish the same could be said for that boy." He gives his brother a disappointed look, which I believe is worse than when Elijah is angry.
"And then there were two." I whisper, tearing a thread from the corner of my shirt. Nik blinks at me, before barking: "don't tell me that you disapprove of what I did too! Can nobody see that I did what was for the best?"
Slowly, I look up, giving him my best piercing look, my voice ever slightly so tremulous. "We were supposed to do it my way. You were supposed to wait for me to go and talk to her ―"
"You were taking far too much time! We were losing daylight, and the more we lost, the more chances the witches had to take her away and win." He interrupts. "Either Davina was mine, or she was no one's!"
"Klaus!" I shriek, losing my cool. "You go on and on about how you want to make this city a safe place for your child, but all I seem to be hearing is you prattling on about your innumerable victories. Don't you dare use that child as an excuse for your actions!"
"I am doing this for my child!"
"It doesn't look like it!" I yell, "you go on and on about that poor child yet your lines are truly blurred between what it right and what you think is right. Can you honestly not tell the difference?"
"Oh, so you spend one evening stuck with my brother and the mother of my child, and you return with disdain clouding your judgement!" Nik spits. "This has nothing to do with anyone but yourself, Niklaus." I heave, "you are a great strategist, no one is denying that, but on the journey there you're going to lose everyone you care about."
"Stop this nonsense, Fiorelli." He mutters darkly. "Tell me, how will you raise your child in a city that was born from the burning embers of war that will continue to wage violence ―" I continue. "Enough!" He growls, and suddenly I am slammed painfully against a pillar. Unwelcomed, memories suffocate me more than his powerful grip, and I sniffle as a sickeningly familiar panic blooms within me.
Weak.
Helpless.
Dead.
Not again! I yell in the peripheries of my mind as I struggle against him. "Let. Me. Go." I growl. A mad glint shines in his eye, and I inch as much as possible away from him, fear suddenly seizing me. "Let's make one thing very clear, Melissa Fiorelli." He rumbles. His cologne is strong, overwhelming, uncomfortable, and it's almost like he is a complete different person.
He is a different person.
"Three days ago, you came to me as Death clung to you. I offered you life." His pupils are crazily dilated. Closing the distance between us, until I can almost taste the scent of his cool breath, I close my eyes tremulously, the beginnings of waterworks growing. "Just because we blood-shared does not mean that you can control me. You have no authority over me. I am Niklaus Mikaelson, and nobody can restrain me." Shoving me slightly, he lets go of me and walks up to his room.
Shaking, I massage my wrists, and raise my eyes to the veranda that is vertically opposite his room. My mouth trembles, but I force myself to become unemotional; stoic. I needed to say what needed to be said.
"Klaus." I call flatly. "I wasn't controlling you. Rebekah wasn't controlling you. Elijah wasn't controlling you." He stops in his brisk walk, his back to me, but I know that he can hear everything I am saying, even if it is a low murmur.
As strength seeps back into my legs, I dust myself off and walk towards the exit, stopping momentarily under the veranda. A dull thud of bitterness grants me something that isn't anger, but that isn't disdain either.
His blue eyes stare back at mine, and I pull up a barrier between us, walking out into the frigid air. "The only things controlling you are your demons. And you're letting them win."
❦❦❦❦❦
I made this chapter extra long to make up for the shorter ones lately, incorporating Mel's well-missed sarcasm. I felt like touching her old roots, lol.
Unintentional parallels are being made as I go along. They just seem to fit extraordinarily well. I mean, I literally just make stuff up and some of it just parallels itself (huh? Does that make sense with you?) with the book. Yay! Kudos to anyone who has noticed the parallels in this chapter and the previous two. You've got a good eye!
Umm, don't kill me. I know that #Klausandrea are being shipped a lot by many readers, but I think they needed to fight. Nik was getting too soft in regards to Mel. I didn't want to, but I had to for realistic purposes.
I also apologise for the friendship broken (Hayley and Mel). I loved them, really I do. It's going to be pretty permanent. But we have that Aaron and Davina dynamic to be explored in more detail! Yay?
Do you like the progression the story is making? What would you like to see?
Please don't forget to vote, comment and/or share.
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