Morrigan Brooks
Flashback to 1759
ONE of the guest rooms was the closest to the bridal suite, so I opted to sleep there, leaving Elijah our room.
I was never overly superstitious, but when Rebekah and I got to talking, I liked the tradition of it all, even if it meant that I had to spend the eve of our wedding away from Elijah.
"I'll wake you up at seven, and then we have a whole day to get ready, do final preparations and fix anything that might go wrong," Rebekah says from the doorway and I nod with a smile.
"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," I chirp and she blows out the candle by the door and closes it.
"See you tomorrow," she laughs.
THE door creaking open was what woke me from a restful slumber, dreaming about this and that.
"Rebekah?" I groan, feeling like it was way too early to be seven.
"Try again, pearl," a chillingly familiar voice said and my spine straightened as I whipped my head around trying to land on the origin of the words. "Did you really think you would be able to run forever?"
"No," I whimper, not as an answer but more as an exclamation when I see the shadow cast.
I tried to scramble out of the room, but I felt glued to my seat.
"Don't you think it's high time we have a chat, Pearl?" The voice says. I wave my hand across the room, illuminating the candles.
He presented as a shadow, five times the size he should be, but when my eyes focused, it was a lot more terrifying.
"Do you know why I call you pearl, and not by your name, Morrigan?" He asks, not moving from his spot in the corner. I can only stay where I am, petrified, but he takes my silence as an answer, or at least an incentive to keep talking. "Because Morrigan means phantom queen. It is the name of the Celtic goddess of war, and my darling girl, I didn't want that for you. I didn't want your namesake to be a war goddess, so I called you my pearl. Precious, because that's what you were to me. Of course, your mother insisted we call you Morrigan because she wanted you to be strong, but I knew any daughter of mine would be."
"You killed her," I say and he shakes his head adamantly.
"I never lied to you about your mother," he says mock-caringly. "The coven did accuse her of dark magic and I didn't get there in time to destroy them all on the spot. I loved your mother, just as I loved you."
You killed my child," I get out, my voice hoarse and full of hatred. "You practically made me into a war machine, ironically enough, and you think calling me a semi-precious stone will make it all go away?"
He ignores me and keeps going. "Did you know, I have eyes everywhere? Honestly, if you wanted to know the weather in Copenhagen, I could tell you. But my eyes told me that you're getting married tomorrow, or, today, I guess. I cannot believe you didn't invite your own father."
My eyes dart around the room, trying to look for a way out, but in the back of my mind, I knew that he wouldn't make a mistake that stupid.
"So, for penance of everything you have put me through, I've decided to take the dearest thing from you." He says in an overly happy voice. "And, while I might not be able to kill them, or- at least it would be an effort, I can still take them away from you."
"How? Are you going to threaten to kill me if they don't stay away from me? Your fatherly instincts are finally kicking in." I quip and he gives me a tight smile.
"No. They will think you're dead though. I'm not going to tell you my plan though. That would just be stupid, but if you wouldn't mind, Pearl, sit tight," he says, waving his hands and black ropes wrapped themselves tightly around my wrists, burning my skin if I struggled. "This will only sting a little bit."
End of flashback
New Orleans hadn't changed much over the years. The last time I was here was 1921, and before that 1759, so I had a steady understanding of it.
It was the off-season for the city, allowing it time to recuperate as well as ready itself for the flood of tourists and partying it was about to get.
"Well the city's the same," Stefan says as we walk through the French Quarter. "Just brighter."
"Have you been back here since '42?" Damon asks.
"Nope," Stefan replies curtly. "Not since I shipped off to join the war effort and you didn't."
Oh... I guess we were bringing the drama to New Orleans.
"Somebody had to entertain the ladies who had been left by their menfolk," Damon says, trying to keep things chipper. He looks down at his phone and I opt to ignore the microexpression that flashed across his face. "Good news, Elena's at the house with the girls where she can't get into trouble. Bad news, they got into the Dom." Damons says with a shrug. "I told her to make herself at home."
"Yeah, you told her so she does. Right?" Stefan says bitterly.
I had recently been informed that Elena was sired to Damon, which I found incredibly ironic, though neither brother saw it. They asked if I could somehow magically undo it, but I had never studied a vampire sire bond up close enough to see what was causing them, though I had a few theories, none of which I thought the Salvatores would be happy to hear.
Damon scoffs at Stefan's accusation but the younger brother gives him a hard stare.
"The sire bond's not that literal, Stefan."
"Really? Stefan questions. "Name one thing that you've asked her to do that you haven't gotten, huh?"
"You know what I haven't gotten?" Damon snaps back. "Blame. Guilt. I get it, Stefan. I get that you're pissed that Elean dumped you because she has feelings for me. Bet you blame the sire bond for that one too, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do-" Stefan starts but I cut him off.
"Okay, that's me done with the arguing," I say, stepping between them to go in the direction of the hotel. "I'll see you both back at the hotel after you've stopped bickering," I say and walk away.
In truth, I could have taken a bit more bickering about the sire bond, but this place was filled with memories.
The rooftop across from where I walked is - or used to be an abandoned building, where Elijah and I would sneak away from the rest of his family and just lie there, ignoring our problems or our responsibilities to just lie there together.
Or the little shopfront to my left used to be one of the most upscale restaurants in the quarter.
The number of memories I had in this place, even though I was only here for fifty-six years, was astronomical.
It was like we spent three hundred years in the span of fifty, and I loved every single moment of it.
I did what I said I would do, and went back to the hotel, but after a while, I got antsy.
What happened to all my stuff? Was the priceless diamond I hid still in place or had it been discovered? What did Elijah do with all my perfumes? I could probably sell those for quite a lot now.
Not that I needed the money, it was just fun to sell things.
Tomorrow, I vowed, bright and early.
I DIDN'T last five hours. Technically it was early, but not bright. I needed to see the Abbattoir, or the compound, whatever we called it.
I walked in, not expecting it to be empty, but expecting it to be a bed and breakfast sort of thing.
Not this.
I watched as a horde of vampires crowded around two central vampires who seemed to be fighting.
How lame was this? A supernatural fight club, for gods sake.
I cloaked myself in a little invisibility spell and slipped straight past them, up the stairs, turn right, and the last door down.
It was familiar, though the wood was rotting and it was dusty beyond what I thought dusty could be, but other than that, it was like I was back in 1759.
I twisted the handle and pushed, only to find the room boarded up.
Two pieces of wood crossed each other in the way of the door, not letting me in. Why hadn't anyone taken this down? The place was obviously used, so why was this room not used?
"Trans mare vel per terram, accipe me tribus metris ante," I quietly mutter, projecting myself into the room.
I looked around and- now this was something I missed saying- it looked exactly as I remembered. Dustier, a bit moth-eaten and slightly more messed up, but other than that, completely the same.
The bedsheet was the same pattern, earrings and necklaces splayed on my bedside table and I went over to the floorboard fourth from the right corner on the north side and pried it open to find my diamond, but it was gone!
Shit! That diamond was literally massive. I stole it from some witches who were being super rude to me.
And I guess they were really misusing their powers, but I don't personally think it gave them the right to be rude.
The Paragon Diamond. That's what it was called! It's all coming back to me now.
That thing could easily be worth over fifty million today. Who on earth stole it?
The diamond was quickly flayed from my mind when I see my closet.
I swung the doors open and get hit with waves of nostalgia and dust. All my old dresses and shoes and more jewellery were standing there, exactly as I left them.
Rummaging around, something caught my eye. It was small, but against the dark wood, the white velvet stood out against it.
It was a box. For a ring.
Carefully, I open it and see two rings that seemed to be from a set. The first had a beautiful, intricate band, tiny diamonds littering it. The second was a lot simpler. A plain band with diamonds all over it.
I knew the first one. It was my engagement ring. One I haven't seen since that horrible night. The other one must be my wedding ring.
Why did Elijah bury both of these deep in the closet and not throw them into the bayou or bury them?
I shove them in my pocket, seeing as they were mine, and continue to rummage, pushing all thoughts about my almost-marriage to the back of my head.
All I really found was some more jewellery that was really quite ugly now, but worth quite a bit, and gloves.
There was one last closet door I still hadn't opened, but when I got to it, my lungs forfeited oxygen.
My wedding dress must have used up the national tulle supply for the bottom. A sweetheart neckline with floral lace over the top and long sleeves. I could remember being so excited to put this on for my wedding.
Next to my dress which was carefully hung up, was a box. It was relatively big with intricate gold carvings across it and on the front, with a lock, though it was unlocked.
I approached it, whatever it could be running through my head and I opened it.
Instead of poison or something like a white oak stake, they were letters. I opened one, and then another, and then another, and then another, and they were all addressed to me, so I brought the whole box with me and sat on my old dusty bed to read them.
My dearest, Morrigan,
It has been a month since you died and this has been the first time I have been able to admit that.
My life without you has been empty and meaningless. I try to act like I'm healing and moving on from your death for my sibling's sake, but I'm not, so now I have resorted to writing you letters that you will never read.
I hope you have found peace and are not beyond the veil, or whatever else you used to call that. I hope you lived your life the way you wanted, even if it was cut short.
This inane writing must stop, but I do love you, Morrigan. You will never know, even if you were alive, no one will ever be able to grasp just how much I love you.
Yours, forever,
Elijah
I put the first one down, wiping a single tear that trickled down my face and picked the next one up.
My dearest, Morrigan
I promised myself I would stop writing to you, seeing as you are dead, but you were the one person who completely knew me and accepted me, the good and the bad, so I am back, writing to you, even though you are dead.
How is it, that one person can have such an impact on you?
It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but it turned out to be the worst, most heart-wrenching day I could ever imagine.
Even if I do keep writing, I must keep these short, or otherwise I will have completely lost it.
Yours, forever,
Elijah
I flicked through the next few and they all said the same thing more or less, until I got to one that was quite different though entirely the same.
My dearest, Morrigan,
It has been a whole year since you passed, and who knew a year could feel like a decade? Since 1589, you have been my greatest weakness and my greatest strength. Something other than my siblings to live and love for. You made me want a full life, but now you are gone. I was addicted to everything about you. The scent of your hair, the way your mouth curls when you laugh, but I am beginning to realise how much I took you for granted.
I thought about you earlier today and I realised I was starting to forget.
Forget the dips and curves of your body. Forget the pattern of freckles that were splayed across your face.
And that is what the hardest part is. I thought that we would have together forever, I thought I would have forever to remember the dips and curves, and the freckles, but now we don't have forever.
I'm starting to forget the exact shade of your eyes.
I dusted off some of your old portraits in a fit of desperation, but they didn't get it right. Somehow they got you ever so slightly wrong, but I would not be able to correct anyone, because I cannot even describe it.
I love you more than words can describe. I cannot say it because I would not do it justice, but I love you. Please know that, wherever you are. Beyond, breathing over my shoulder, or if you have found peace, I love you.
Yours, for eternity,
Elijah
The tears were falling freely now, dampening paper in certain places so I put all the letters back in the box and out that box back where I found it. I went back for the rings and pocketed the box, seeing as they were mine and they were really pretty and sparkly, along with the sentimental value.
Walking out of the room, I decided to watch a bit of this fight club to try to get my mind off the letters.
Removing the glamour from myself, I walk up next to the group of vampires next to me and just watch.
The fight was over quite quickly, the smaller one winning, and soon, a guy comes out with his arms out, making himself appear bigger than he was. Dark skin, quite buff, really hot and his eyes were piercing and he looks, if I were a younger vampire, that he would be the answer to all my problems.
"Amazing! You all know this is one way to get yourself a daylight ring very very quickly!" He says with a laugh.
Daylight rings? Is that what vampires were pawning off now? I knew quite a few witches who would do it for a couple of thousand bucks and all the supplies.
"Now, next up is..." The vampire says pausing for dramatic effect, though I didn't care anymore, so I sped off out of the building unnoticed because none of them cared about anything except this guy and his daylight rings.
That was not my problem. If he had a witch who was willing to do it, that was his prerogative.
WHEN you spend the majority of your life with someone, and a good portion of that time being in love with that person, you find it hard to imagine your life without them. If I thought back to when I was engaged, I could never imagine what my life would be like without Elijah. I had somehow become a bit dependent on him and I liked it. I liked how he would always be there for me, no matter how big or little my problem was.
When my memories got taken away from me, I couldn't place it, but I knew in the back of my mind that there was something missing. It wasn't a definitive thing, I just knew, and Eliza, after relentlessly mocking me, tried to show me that there was more to life than a maybe. More than something that may not even exist, but I never bought into it.
Soon before I met Elijah for the second time, I was beginning to believe that I was delusional, but then I met him.
At first, he was just super hot, but after getting to know him, I fell way too hard, way too quickly, and when my memories were uncovered, so much made sense.
In the days following the ordeal, so much made sense.
Why I fell for Elijah. Why I felt at home with him. Why I opened up to him so much.
But it also scared me. In those initial days, I didn't realise the depth of our relationship and I was scared of what else he could do to me and what else I would forgive him for, but now I realised that wasn't how we worked. That wasn't why we worked.
Elijah and I were equals and right now I was missing him like crazy. I knew I was supposed to be the one that is mad at him, but I really just couldn't help it.
I couldn't help but love him.
I DIDN'T see Damon or Stefan until morning and they were filling me in on everything while we walked to a bar in the middle of Bourbon Street, where Damon would meet Charlotte, his sireling from back in the forties, where he would promptly, quote-unquote, 'set her free'.
"So apparently I killed like twelve people for no reason," Damon finishes explaining their night and I raise a brow.
"Twelve is a pretty specific number, especially for witches. Do you know why she wanted that many?" I ask and he shrugs.
"I don't know. Apparently, it's not even magic," he says nonchalantly and both my brows raise. "She said it was called expression."
"Damon, take this to heart, seriously, do not get mixed up with a witch that is practising expression. It is bad news," I say earnestly and he grunts, definitely not taking it to heart. "Contrary to popular belief, I like you enough to warn you about this."
"That's so heartfelt, Ror, I'm touched," he says flatly and I roll my eyes.
"Expression is bad shit. Seriously, do not get into that," I say seriously and the brothers nod, and I just hope it sunk in.
Damon stalks away from us and into the near-empty bar, where Charlotte already was.
"Hi Damon," she says in a relieved voice, almost bouncing in her seat, but then the door closed and I could only listen.
"Charlotte... listen," he starts and I could hear her confused sigh. "We both need lives but... they need to be separate lives."
"So... you're just leaving me again?" She whispers.
"No, I," Damon stutters. "I need to get on with my life, and so do you," he says softly.
"I don't want to live without you," she says shakily. I felt sorry for the poor girl. She didn't have a choice that she was obsessed with Damon.
"If you want to make me happy, you will," he says quite slowly. "You just... forget about me. You'll never think of me again, and you'll find someone new and you'll be happier than ever." I could hear her soft sobs. "Please, stop crying," he says and she immediately does.
"I'm never gonna be able to forget you," she says slowly.
"Yes, you are," Damon says optimistically. "And I'm never gonna be happy until you realise that you're never gonna have the life you deserve if I'm in it." He was wording this quite smartly. I hear the scraping of the chair against the floor and assumed he got up to leave. "Goodbye, Charlotte," he says and exits the bar.
Damon walks back over to us and I walk a bit further away, not in the mood for the constant bickering that had recently been going on between the brothers, so instead, I stood by the curb, waiting for a taxi to drive by.
I block out the Salvatores mostly, but I did get the gist. Stefan says Damon is selfish, Damon says Stefan should get off his high horse, you know, the standard stuff, and when a cab finally does roll through Bourbon Street, I was thanking my lucky stars.
I needed to see Elijah. I still had the rings and was considering threading them through my necklace with the red ring already on it.
Another thing I learned recently, is that the ring on my necklace wasn't just a random ring that I found, it was a birthday present from Elijah for my two hundred and sixty-sixth or sixty-seventh birthday, and it must have just fallen off when my father dumped me wherever it was he dumped me after taking my memories.
"Let's go, Ror," Damon says sullenly, getting into the yellow vehicle, followed by a silent Stefan.
"The airport, please," I say and the driver just nods and drives through the streets of New Orleans.
sorry this chapter took so long guys, more are coming asap❤️