◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖜𝖔: ❛ burning bridges ❜ ◢
✧
FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE ARRIVAL OF THE MIKAELSONS, NEW ORLEANS ALMOST HAD PEACE. The city was quiet, and human, and utterly ordinary. There were no rebellions, there was no tension, it was quiet. Yet, instead of it being calming, it placed Marisol on edge. Things only stayed quiet before they got incredibly loud, and she knew that storms were beginning to brew. Though the weather wouldn't tell you so, and everyone seemed so ordinary, underneath there were claws and fangs.
There was war.
While she pretended to live in peace, and supported Elijah's efforts on creating an assembly between the different factions for continued peace, she was not a fool. Marisol Bigora had lived for five hundred years, and she had seen plenty wars. Though peace was sought between enemies, they would always stay enemies, and a fight would brew.
Though Elijah fought for the factions to come together and bring peace to New Orleans – without fighting, without bloodshed – Marisol stayed on edge. Everything was not as it seemed.
"Niklaus has no interest in ruling," Elijah noted to her, a trace of a snarl out of anger for Klaus' neglect, "He fought for a kingdom then he leaves me to rule it."
Marisol wrapped her arm around his shoulder, drawing him back into bed. "Do you really wanna talk about your brother while we're both naked and you just fucked me?"
Elijah's lips twitched to a smile and he turned her. "Apologies," then sated her with a kiss, "I'm...distracted."
She rolled her eyes a little, because that much had been obvious for a while, but she wouldn't push where he wasn't ready. He wanted something else, and she was willing to give. More than willing. "If he's leaving you to rule, lead them. Create the New Orleans you want to see, not what Klaus wanted."
He kissed her again then brought his hand to brush her cheek. "I never wished to be king, though you would make a wonderful queen," she couldn't help but blush like a teenager, pushing him away though he just gently laughed, "No, another king wouldn't work. Not anymore. There needs to be a council."
"Father Kieran always spoke for the humans when Marcel ruled, he could again," she suggested, "And Diego knows all the vampires. They'd listen to him."
At the mention of Diego, Elijah turned away a little and Marisol's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
He hesitated, "It's nothing."
"You're upset," she guessed and when he shied away further, she continued, "Wait – is this because I slept with him?"
Elijah moved to get up and Marisol grabbed onto his arm to stop him, laughing as she did. "You're jealous! I can't believe that Elijah Mikaelson is jealous!"
"Marisol," he said in a warning tone, but she continued to laugh, tugging him down. Though she knew he could easily stay up, he fell back anyway.
"Elijah," she cupped his face, "You don't have to be jealous of Diego. I'm not with him, I'm with you, and I care about you. More than I ever cared about him."
He kissed her again, hard enough that she fell back into the sheets, and the conversation ended.
But the notion stayed in their heads. A council. All the factions have a voice and they work together to create peace. And Elijah took the steps to make that dream a reality, without the help of the King Klaus himself. No, it was him, and it was Marisol, until they were all gathered together in St. Anne's Church.
Father Kieran stood up first, as Genevieve and Diego sat beside each other. Marisol didn't sit, but stood against a wall, and Elijah was beside the human.
"St. Anne's has long been neutral ground in our city. So, it's only fitting that we gather in this chamber at the behest of Elijah Mikaelson to bring harmony to this place we call home. Thank you all for coming," Father Kieran started them.
"Yes, thank you for coming," Elijah stood a little closer to them, "And welcome. These are the rule of the city according to Marcel Gerard," he began to tear the document of rules in half, "Which, of course, no longer apply, because I'm in charge."
"You said that if we came along, that we would get to run things by ourselves. Never mentioned anything about making yourself king," Diego interjected.
Elijah corrected him, "Well, you were each selected to represent your own communities. In our honor, however, any issues that arise between factions, it will come to me. Now, we are all responsible for the current chaos in the city. However, you have one very, very simple choice ahead of you here: you can all play nicely together, or you can leave."
His intimidation wasn't through making himself bigger, or by outward loud anger. It was simply him, standing, and staring into their souls, letting them have a glimpse of the price they would pay if they disobeyed. He was cold and calculating, not loud with outbursts like Klaus. It sent a shiver down her spine.
Once everyone agreed to work together towards peace, Elijah began to state the new ground rules for the factions, which only caused arguments. For peace, there had to be compromise, which no one wanted.
"This is our city, too! We should be able to go wherever the hell we want!" Diego yelled.
Which, of course, only prompted Genevieve to also yell, "We would consider it an act of war!"
Father Kieran was the only quiet one, which wasn't unreasonable because he was just human. "We're getting nowhere. You vile creatures cannot agree."
"Father, calm yourself, please," Elijah roared, which effectively silenced them. Marisol's proud smile shined. "Thank you. Now returning to the issue of boundaries, you will all head to the following –"
His words were interrupted by the door flinging open and Hayley practically running towards them, eyes full of fury. "Are you serious? You're dividing up the city, and the werewolves don't even get a say?"
Diego stood up, and his eyes turned red as well. "What the hell is she doing here?"
"Diego, sit," Elijah commanded him before turning to Hayley, "We are not dividing the city. We're establishing boundaries –"
"No, Elijah! There is not gonna be a peace if the werewolves are excluded. They want a seat at the table," Diego and Genevieve scoffed at her, "And if they don't get one, I can guarantee that you will all regret it."
"Pipe down, already," Marisol rolled her eyes, getting up from her spot and going to stand by Elijah, facing down Hayley, "You won't accomplish anything by coming in here guns a blazing. Really, do you think anything through?"
And, oh, Hayley did not like that. Neither did Elijah, who sent her a look, and for a second she felt guilt before she let it roll off her. Still, Elijah brought the two into a separate room as the other leaders began to quarrel again amongst themselves.
"Do you have any idea what it took just to get those people in one room together?" Elijah turned to Hayley again.
"No, actually, I don't! Because I didn't even know what you were doing out here until someone else told me. Tell me something, Elijah. Did you leave the werewolves out because of me?" Hayley asked him.
"Woah, Hayley, this was an effort between the two of us. Do you really think us so cruel?" Marisol asked her, because while they were no longer on the same team, and their friendship was gone with the wind and she could be mean, she was not cruel. Marisol wasn't cruel to old friends, only enemies, and they weren't enemies.
Hayley looked taken aback by the question, for the first time stepping away from them instead of gunning towards them. Then, after letting it seep into her, she washed it off.
"I excluded them because they no longer reside in the French Quarter," Elijah explained, "My immediate concern is to end the mounting conflict here. Now, I can assure you once this treaty is solidified, it will expand to include your people."
"And until then, I should tell them what? Sit? Stay? Roll over?" Hayley asked angrily.
"I would prefer that you remove yourself from the process all together!" Elijah shouted. Hayley glared at him and Marisol took a step back. Then, once the anger was gone, he looked apologetic. "Hayley, are you absolutely certain that you shouldn't return to the compound?"
Hayley only laughed at him. "You think the baby belongs there? You think that's where she'll be safe?"
"Is the Bayou any better?"
Hayley didn't answer, only turned stoic. Then: "The wolves deserve a voice. Give them one. You know it's the right thing to do."
"And they will get one," Marisol stopped her, "There is a plan. There is an order. Just because there isn't immediate change for you, doesn't mean it's not in the works. Besides, not everything is about you."
Hayley searched her eyes, then her face, "You used to be so kind, what happened to you?"
Then, she left, and Marisol took a step back. Her words cut deep, and she couldn't help but think that Hayley wanted them to. But Hayley was wrong. Marisol was kind, but she was cruel. She was kind to many, and she was kind to Hayley in the scheme of things, but her kindness appeared differently now. Instead of helping Hayley find wolfsbane to kill her child, it was letting her go so she could find her blood family.
That was her kindness.
But her kindness meant letting go of Hayley, who she used to see herself in. Maybe she still did, and that's why they had to oppose each other. They had different loyalties now, and those divided them. Hayley focused on the wolves, reviving a family she was just meeting while Marisol forged a new family with a strange amalgamation of people. After all, family didn't always equate to blood.
✧
THERE WAS A text from Davina asking to meet her at a diner. It was late at night, and Elijah was sleeping beside her, and she knew she should stay in bed, or wake him and tell him where she would be, but Davina wouldn't have texted her if it wasn't urgent. Wouldn't have found a way to get her number if it wasn't an emergency, and really with Genevieve in the house – a constant bedmate of Klaus – she didn't want to utter Davina's name in case she heard.
So, she crept out of bed and got dressed, leaving the Compound in the dead of night to meet the witch at the diner selected. When she got there, Davina was already nursing a cup of coffee and she sat opposite of the girl in the booth.
"You came," Davina looked so happy, as if this was the first good thing to happen to her in a long time. From what she knew, it could have been.
"Of course. You asked me to," Marisol answered as if it was obvious, "Are you alright?"
Davina locked eyes with her before looking away, her hand twirling around the spoon inside her coffee. "I can't perform magic. Well, I mean, I can't practice it. I won't. When I was dead, the ancestors tortured me, and now I can't bring myself to use my magic and Monique keeps making jabs about it, but she doesn't understand."
"I'm sorry. I wish there was another way, but..."
"You were there," Davina stopped her, looking her dead in the eyes again, "That night. You were with Marcel, and you made the decision with him. Why did you agree to bring me back?"
"Because we thought it would be best. Look, you were alive again, and Marcel needed you to protect him and Rebekah and it wasn't right. He realized that, and he knew he couldn't keep you. He was going to face up against Klaus – he was prepared to die that night – and now he's banished. There was no way for him to keep you safe, that's if you wanted to be with him, and it...it seemed like the best option. Taking you back to the witches."
"They hate me," Davina whispered, "I'm a disgrace. A Harvest girl who doesn't deserve the title. I-I turned against them and now I can't even produce a flame with my magic."
"Davina, you are deserving of a Harvest girl. You are strong and you channeled so much more magic than a teenage girl should have for months without problems. If anything, Monique is jealous because she knows she could have never done that," Marisol offered, "You're an amazing witch, but you're an even better person."
"I just don't know how much more I can take," Davina sighed, though she did look appreciative of Marisol's efforts.
Marisol bit her lip. Then, making the decision, said, "If you can't do it anymore, and you need to leave, you can. I know someone who can be here in a matter of hours and he will take you away and protect you. No one will ever find you or use you ever again."
"You can do that?" Davina asked her.
"Yes," she nodded in confirmation, "If I asked my nephew to take care of you, he will. One-hundred percent."
"And I won't have to be a witch anymore?"
"You can just be human. Whatever you want," Marisol agreed, "We'll make the arrangements whenever you want."
At that, Davina hesitated. "I don't know. I've never left New Orleans before."
"There's no need to rush and decide tonight. We're on no one's time limit besides your own," Marisol assured her, "If it ever becomes too much and you can't take it anymore, just tell me, and I'll contact him. Without hesitation."
Davina had tears swelling in her eyes as she looked into Marisol's. "Thank you."
Marisol gave her a smile, because she would always protect a child when they needed it. She wouldn't let Davina die again. "Of course."
✧
THOUGH SHE WAS not dressed in a ball gown, she was dressed in an incredibly nice dress, and it reminded her of centuries ago with Elijah. Them, at the Mikaelson ball, a dress she could never afford in her lifetime given so carelessly to her, dancing for hours until too many hours passed and it was time for the fantasy to end.
The party had a large array of people. There was vampires, humans, witches, and werewolves. Those of the Bayou were invited and prowled the grounds, looking incredibly high and mighty for people who lived in the swamp. Marisol should probably be kinder to them, after all they were of the same creature, yet she found no niceties to extend towards them.
"You did a great job," she complimented Elijah, "The party was a great idea. Liquor either brings people closer or it pushes them towards violence. Let's hope the former happens tonight."
"Yes, that would be better," he agreed, bringing her into a kiss, "You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you. You look handsome as well, but you always did know how to clean up nicely," she sent him a wink and he graced her with a smile.
"I woke up last night, around one, and you weren't there," Elijah noted, calm for someone who was eyeing her so.
Shit. He noticed. It was fine. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong by going to see Davina in her time of crisis, but she also didn't want to say anything when ears caught so much around here.
"Got hungry. Went to a diner to get some food," she gave him a look suggesting they would talk about it more later, and thankfully he agreed, only humming then dropping the subject.
"Let me go say my hellos," Elijah excused himself, walking down the stairs to greet Francesca Correa who would be taking over as the human faction leader since Father Kieran was hexed and in declining health.
Marisol watched him converse with her for a moment before going along to find Klaus, who was on the balcony instead of joining the festivities of the night. "You know, you were the one who wanted to be king," she said in lieu of a greeting, going to stand with him.
"Did Elijah send you?" he asked instead of entertaining her statement.
"I don't do his biding, believe it or not. If he's asked you the same thing, it's because we're both curious," she eyed him, "So much bloodshed to rule New Orleans, and now that you have it you pay it no mind. I don't buy that for a second."
"What is there to buy? I have what I want, and I am content. Elijah can deal with the upkeep," the hybrid shrugged, so careless in his behavior.
"You're playing at a bigger game," Marisol told him, though it wasn't like he didn't already know this, "I can tell, and I'll find out. You'll reveal yourself eventually."
Klaus turned to her, looking at her for the first time tonight, "I never reveal anything before I'm ready."
"Everyone slips up sometimes," Marisol shrugged, moving away from him to get a drink downstairs before continuing to lurk upstairs, just in case.
Klaus was sly, but even he couldn't be prepared all the time, even he would slip up. And she would be waiting, ready to catch him, and know his game. So she waited, going down to mingle sometimes and see Elijah before going back up and waiting more, making sure not to catch anyone's suspicion.
And, her waiting proved fruitful when she saw Jackson – one of the wolves – go to the balcony and Klaus say, "I'm so glad you accepted my invitation."
Marisol didn't dare move after that, only staying where she was and training her ears on the conversation, taking in all the words and memorizing them. There was a bigger game, and there was a reason for his supposed carelessness. Yet another act, another mask Klaus molded to fit his face.
Klaus wanted an alliance with the wolves, that much was obvious as he spoke, and Marisol wasn't so surprised. It was unexpected, perhaps, but it wasn't illogical of him. But she wasn't prepared for the gift Klaus offered him.
"My mother was a powerful witch. I watched her craft all manner of magical items, but her most prized possession was this ring. I hadn't seen it for a thousand years, and then it turned up hanging around the neck of a werewolf – a direct descendant of my biological father. I believe she gave him this ring as a way of freeing him," Klaus told Jackson.
"How so?"
"Daylight rings shield vampires from the sun. So, why not a moonlight ring to protect werewolves from the curse? Think about it! No more breaking bones, no more losing control to the beast within."
It almost felt like her heart stopped as she listened to him describe the ring – the ring from the werewolf they found in the bayou – the one they murdered because he was connected to Klaus' wolf lineage. He had this ring the entire time, and he kept it away from her.
He must've known that she would've wanted it, he must've known that she used to hate herself. She lamented to him that she was a beast in the past, a monster who wasn't worthy of love. And now, though she wasn't close with Klaus, they were kind. They were allies, and maybe a little closer. She had extended him kindness after kindness, she had fought for him, she had protected his unborn child. She had protected him.
She stood with him and his family against Marcel. Against her friend, she let them banish Marcel, and it had been a month since she had seen him. She was running his kingdom for him now with Elijah. And yet – yet – he had this ring, and he never offered it to her.
No, why would he? That would be selfless? That would be kind, a true kindness for her, and the loss of a potential gain for him. Because, at the end of the day, it was all just a political game and she was solely a pawn to him. Not a friend, not an ally, but a pawn to move around the board in his favor. Why would he give her anything?
She didn't mean anything to him.
Jackson left the balcony, his allegiance given to Klaus now, and Marisol appeared where he once stood, staring down at Klaus who looked surprised to see her there.
"I figured out your game," she began, "I heard it all. Smart, using the wolves. No one would suspect it even though you're a hybrid, and that ring. Well, it would grant you any wolf's loyalty now, wouldn't it?"
"If you're here to tell me that you're going to spill to Elijah –"
"Elijah doesn't have anything to do with this," she cut him off, moving forward, finally getting a glimpse of the moonlight ring, "That ring. It's about your ring. Funny, that you stand and look at a wolf day in and day out and never wonder if she wants to have it. That maybe she doesn't like transforming and maybe she wants control over her werewolf side."
"Marisol –"
"Oh, but of course you wouldn't, because Klaus Mikaelson doesn't care about others. How could I forget about that? It must've slipped my mind when I deluded myself into thinking you're a good person, that you shouldn't be judged as a monster, but treated like a damaged but good human being."
She began to laugh then. "But I was wrong. Of course I was wrong. Everyone is always wrong about you, thinking that there is some goodness in you, thinking that you can be changed. You're still selfish. You always were. You know, I convinced myself that we were friends. That we got past the point of ally and into friend, but I was wrong. I should've known better than to think highly of you and expect goodness from you. My mistake. It won't happen again."
She didn't wait for him to explain himself, she didn't want his explanation, she didn't want to hear anything from his lips. It was a betrayal. Maybe not a conscious one, maybe not one he knew about, but it was a betrayal. He hadn't even considered her for this, thinking she wanted control over her wolf, or maybe he did and decided not to give it to her anyway.
It wasn't like he needed to win her over with any huge gift after all. Klaus had Elijah, and that was always enough to enthrall her.
As she came down the stairs, Elijah was there to greet her before she had the chance to smooth out her face and brush away her tears. "Are you alright?" he asked her in a low voice, eyes full of concern.
"Your brother's a dick, but what else is now?" she laughed, though there was no humor, just wanting to forget about the pain now, "Dance with me?"
"As you wish," and he took her hand, leading her to the center of the room with the other couples, allowing her to close her eyes and live yet another fantasy of love and escapism. No sadness, no pain, only joy. Only forever.
But they weren't in a fantasy, not really, not one that could last forever, because there were still tensions and there was still hated, and wolves and vampires didn't want to exist together.
They wanted to fight each other, they wanted to kill each other, so Elijah had to leave their dance early to take care of the problem, pulling off another werewolf from Diego.
Elijah had in a position of almost death, and there probably would've been physical punishment if Hayley hadn't inserted herself. "What's stopping you? Kill him. Go ahead, Elijah. Do it. I mean, it's not like he doesn't deserve to die. I mean, it was Oliver who handed Rebekah over to the witches so they could torture her. But, then again, wasn't it Diego who led a werewolf massacre last month? And the witches cursed the wolves, while the humans stood back and let it all happen. So, when you think about it, everyone here deserves to die."
"Are you approaching a point?" Elijah asked her haughtily.
"My point, Elijah, is this – if we can't all learn to get along, if our families can't create some sort of community, then what's the point? Kill each other and get it all over with," Hayley proclaimed the party, daring them to make a move.
But Elijah released Oliver, and Jackson let go of Diego, and after another moment of silence, the party continued like nothing happened. And it wasn't spoken loudly about again. At the end of the party, a draft for a peace treaty had finally been agreed upon. Marisol officiated as Elijah, Diego, Genevieve, Francesca, and Hayley cut their palms and let their blood drip into an inkwell to sign the document, solidifying the alliance.
Marisol watched as the faction leaders left one by one, only following after Hayley and stopping her before she could go back to the other wolves to leave to the Bayou.
"Klaus is corrupting your wolves," Marisol told her before she could say anything, "He's offered them something they can't live without."
Hayley shook her head. "They wouldn't stand with him."
"Yes, they would. One already has, and he'll convince the others soon enough," Marisol told her, stepping away to pour herself a drink. "He always wins, after all."
"You're with Klaus, so why are you telling me this?" Hayley asked her, "Why should I even believe you?"
Marisol sipped at her drink before staring her dead in the eyes. "You asked me earlier why I'm no longer kind, I am, but my kindness towards you has shifted. It is no longer laying down my life for you, it is no longer being at her beckoning call and doing whatever you ask, it is this. It is telling you what's going to happen, it's giving you my advice and allowing you to do whatever you wish with it.
"Believe me or not, I don't care. It won't affect me, but it will affect you. Though I don't care for your pursuit of family, I don't wish for you to lose it to Klaus. He's a dick. So, this is my kindness: giving you my knowledge. It's not what it used to be, but our relationship has changed. We have different loyalties now, and we are on different paths. I can't show you the same kindness as before. My loyalty is to Elijah, Marcel, and Davina. It is not to you or the wolves, so I will not lay down my life for you. I will not protect you. I will protect my family, and I will protect your child, but not you.
"This – This is the extend of my kindness. Take it or leave it."
Hayley looked at her for another moment. "Just because we have different loyalties doesn't mean our friendship had to end."
Marisol smiled at her sadly, what a young, naïve belief to have. She knew better, and she knew when the end was the end. And this, for them, had ended. They were marching towards different paths.
"Sadly, Hayley, it does. For us, it does. You should go find the others," and she watched Hayley leave.
For a moment she felt heavier, then lighter. It wouldn't be the last time she would see Hayley, but they would see each other again in a different light. Hayley would understand now why it was different between them, there wouldn't be anymore expectations. While there was loss, and pain – so much pain from Klaus, she felt lighter as well. She burned the bridges that needed to go, but strengthened the ones that needed to be strengthened.
And for once, looking at the future of New Orleans, she wasn't scared.