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𝑲𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒔 𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒂𝒊𝒅 …

Book Two of Warm-Blooded ;

Chapter 23 | when dreams come true

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, a pretty much tamed 1st chapter…for now

a/n: this is the 1st chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

MASTERLIST | NEXT ->

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲 | 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗢𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒.

It wasn't how Deena imagined it to be the moment she stepped off the smelly bus onto the gravel sidewalk, with a packed bag hung across her shoulder and an old black suitcase covered in band stickers she used to listen to years ago.

She came a long way from Le Havre, France. Spent about seventeen hours on a plane and another two hours riding two buses to get here, stuck next to an annoying older woman spilling her lifelong secrets.

The sunny sky was touched with a gloom and many buildings looked as if they came out of the 1700s in American films with a modern touch to fit today's society. There were many interesting stores that had caught Deena's eye as she traveled down the sidewalk with no plan in mind. She enjoyed the urban touch of the city through the people and how together they were which was much different back home. Also, it was very much diverse compared to the small area she lived in.

She felt comfortable. At home.

Off the side of a group of friends passing through, Deena pulled out a picture of her beautiful mother in the arms of a man that's to be her father—Klaus Mikaelson.

Her mother was happy in this picture. They both were. In a black shirt hanging off her shoulders, ripped tights under a pair of shorts, smiling at the camera with a drink in her hand and her curly hair almost taking up half the photo. The man—her father, Klaus—sat leaned into her mother, kissing her ear with an arm thrown around her waist. He wore a basic leather jacket with dark blue jeans. Dirty blond hair, dark blue-greenish eyes, and a killer smile. The table in front of them covered in empty red cups and half-filled liquor bottles. They were both young, in college, and in love.

"I want to find him," Deena said to herself in a soft voice. "I need to find Klaus Mikaelson."

But the problem was if Deena ever found her father, she didn't know what she would tell him. She practiced what to say when meeting him, but it was all gibberish and uncompleted sentences that made no sense. She feared a lot of things about her father; him being married with kids and she would come into his perfect life and ruin the happiness he made for himself, no knowledge of his other child he had created across the globe. Or he was a dead-beat with nothing going for his life. Or he has long passed away.

But whatever truth lies in his life, she just wanted to see him. From afar, if needed. To see how he lived. And if he cared enough to know that the woman he met in this very city before she moved to France years ago, was now dead. But she selfishly wanted him to know that she existed.

...if she knew where he was. Or where to start.

The city was so big, nevertheless the state and because Deena wasn't from around—this was her second time ever in America—it was difficult for her to navigate or read the English signs she never learned. But she grew hungry and entered the nearest restaurant.

"Hey, welcome in! Take a seat anywhere," Greeted the waiter, passing by with both hands filled.

Most tables were filled as Deena searched for an empty spot.

Sensing the panicked teenager, the waiter stood before Deena after she finished serving a table. "Must be your first time here, so welcome. Just join a table with someone, anyone, but choose wisely; some people can talk more than they chew." She was picking at the older customer sitting at the counter who obviously heard what she said and sent her a squinted look with pursed lips. "That's the motto of the restaurant; To Meet A Stranger Along The Way. Eating alone doesn't mean you have to be alone. So sit anywhere and I or another waiter will be with you soon."

Deena sent the nice lady a smile. "I understand, thank you."

She pulled along her suitcase looking for a place to sit down. Most tables were occupied and many shared engaging conversations of their own that Deena didn't want to intrude, until she noticed a brunette sitting alone with a book in her hand reading quietly.

"Can I sit here?"

The girl looked up from her book and gestured towards the empty chair. "Go for it," she went back to reading.

She took off her backpack and placed it in the empty seat next to her before sitting down. The girl was young, or at least she appeared to be. Had to be around the same age, and she was very pretty.

That part Deena will keep to herself.

As if the girl felt Deena's complimenting stare, she tore away her gaze as the girl lifted her head from the book, but it was already too late since she was caught. "Have you read it?" She started. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I know right? It's for some stupid class, so the teacher's forcing us to read up to five chapters and come back to a pop quiz. Which, I know I will fail."

Both girls shared a short laughter.

"I'm Deena.” She introduced. “I'm new around here."

The waiter then came to take Deena's order while also setting down a grilled turkey sandwich with extra avocado and a side of fries for the girl. She finally placed down her book, giving thanks to the waiter before digging into her food.

The mouth-watering scent made Deena's stomach grumble. I’m so damn hungry.

"Davina," while washing down her fries with lemonade. "Not new here. But I noticed the accent. Where are you from?"

"France. More specifically, Le Havre." Deena replied. "You?"

"Born and raised. Also, don't hate me but the only place I know of France is Paris, but I'm sure Le Havre is a fun place to visit and live at."

Deena shrugged showing no offense to Davina's knowledge of France. She didn’t blame the girl since she knew nothing of the US besides New York, California, Florida, and Texas. They were normally the most talked about and the most used location in films. Also, it seemed a lot always happened in those states.

"It's cool. I actually didn't know Louisiana existed until a few days ago." Deena admitted.

"But here you are!"

She gave a small smile, agreeing. "Here I am."

Some moments later, the waiter delivered Deena's food; half cut Cuban sandwich with extra pickles and a sweet tea. She dug in without question.

Davina was a cool person to chat with. Easy-going, funny, and there was something about her energy Deena felt oddly connected to. Davina also felt an odd connection to Deena but brushed it off as she stuffed her mouth full.

There was a long list prepared for the day, but realized it was quite small and she had no starting point. I came here on a whim. With little to no planning, and childish hope.

But remembered Davina was from New Orleans. There's a possibility she might've ran into her father or seen him around somewhere. Or visited a store he owned. Or attended school with one of his kids. Or visited his grave.

"So, I was wondering since you're from around if you knew this man?" Deena wiped the oils from her fingers before reaching into her front backpack's pocket. Pulling out the photo of her mother and Klaus, she held it in front of Davina to inspect.

Davina noticeably froze upon viewing the photo. She had blinked a few times to make sure the man she saw wasn't just some random person she's misjudging but a man who was famously known throughout the streets and the supernatural world.

She pulled back from the table and picked at the grilled bread. "What do you want with him?" suddenly, she got hostile with Deena despite her pure intentions.

She knew him.

Deena sighed with relief. Davina obviously knew her father, but the cold tone she used when responding made her nervous. He must be married. With kids. Or nothing but a dead-beat. Or worse. Dead.

Deena returned the photo back into her backpack pocket with a shrug. "So you know him?"

"Yea, Klaus Mikaelson. Anyone who's done him bad or crossed his path on accident knows of him and his notorious siblings—"

"He has siblings?" Deena interjected.

"—oh yeah. Elijah and Rebekah Mikaelson and whoever comes back to life occasionally." She continued, slightly confusing Deena but she was happy to hear there's more than her father alive. "Terrorizing the city and the people who live within. Any person with a sense of mind would tell you to stay the hell away. You don't want anything to do with that psychotic man and his troubling siblings. His family is a curse to this city, to the communities, and they care for no one else but themselves. I'm sure the woman in that photo was killed by the hands of Klaus Mikaelson himself." She sneered.

Deena, not knowing this man nor his siblings personally, felt offended by Davina's harsh words because they were her family. And even worse, she accused her father murdering her mother. A beautiful soul who raised Deena with everything she could give her, found locked in her car with a letter admitting how unhappy she was with her life.

The smile on Deena’s face faltered to a deadpan glare as Davina bad-mouthed the family she had ties to. She noticed the change of her expression, but she thought nothing of it since she assumed she was doing good by scaring the curious French girl away from Klaus and far away from this cursed city.

Deena abruptly stood from her seat already gathering her belongings.

"W-where are you going? You haven't finished your— "

"The woman standing next to Klaus is my mother. And the man next to her, Klaus Mikaelson, is my father. And she wasn't murdered by him, she hated her life and everyone within it so she did the job herself." Deena vividly watched Davina grow with shock upon hearing Klaus was her father and was filled with sudden guilt from all she had said about her parents before. "But you are right about one thing; we are troubling. At least it keeps people away. So thanks for nothing. I'll find him my own damn self."

She wasn't sure how much the meal cost altogether and because the currency was slightly different, she left a big amount on the table which included a tip. She was out the restaurant in no time. Her head felt dizzy and she was hot all over heaving out steam, suddenly impacted by the overwhelming emotions she thought she had pushed back.

A month ago, Deena's mother passed away.

Her death made no sense. She was a cheerful woman who often hid away in her art studio painting and sketching for hours until it was time to pick Deena up from school. Students were often jealous because while other parents nagged on their child's grades and permitted curfews, Deena's mother never hovered over her shoulder about her grades and trusted Deena enough to be home within a reasonable time. And while other parents came dressed in their finest most classiest clothing for teacher conference nights or the school performances Deena was a part of, her mother came dressed straight out of a Fruits Magazine.

She was stressless, free, a kindred spirit, and an amazing mother. Sometimes Deena would forget her mother wasn't a close friend or an older sister despite having her at a young age. She was vocal about her problems and told Deena since a young age that "anger should never be placed into a bottle. Let the world hear you even if they say you scream too loud. They don't like Black girls expressing themselves in any manner if not with their heads down, so you must do it for the next little Black girl who's taking notes.".

But still, it made no sense.

The morning before she died, Deena's mother showed no signs of distress. She made banana pancakes, sent Deena off to school, and when she came home, her mother was working on a late piece for an art exhibition a friend in town invited her work to. She then left after dinner and was never seen for two days until Deena received a call from the police station. But it was questionable and she didn't understand it.

Why was she unhappy with life when she expected so much out of it? Why would she leave when she promised me the world? Why wasn’t she vocal with her depression in the same way she taught me to be vocal?

"Deena, wait!" Davina called out after placing down her half of the pay and rushed out the doors. She knew she was wrong for what she said and she felt terrible. "Look, I'm sorry! I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or bring your mother into this; I was only speaking from a personal experience which is no excuse at all. Next time, I should watch what I say. But..."

Deena kept walking. She struggled to drag her suitcase with her speed. The old wheels looked as if they were about to break off at any second, but she somehow managed to keep going.

Davina huffed annoyingly. "But I know where he is, Klaus Mikaelson," Deena halted her steps, facing the girl. "And I know where you can find him."

As Deena studied her face to find any spec of bluff hidden in her tone or written amongst her face, she saw she was telling the truth. She knew where her father currently hung around or lived, and of course, she wasn't going to question why or how she knew that kind of information.

"Where is he?" Asked Deena.

"The Abattoir. I can take you there since you might get lost. Also, you might want a travel buddy traveling in that particular area."

Deena sized the girl down. "Why? Will Klaus murder me too?"

"Again, I'm sorry about that." With her eyes narrowed, Davina apologized again. Deena still felt offended by what she said but since she genuinely felt sorry for it, about her mother at least, she decided to cut her some slack. She doesn't need an enemy on her first day in New Orleans. "Look, you're not from around and I'm sure you don't know about..."

Taking in Deena's blank stare, Davina then shook off the conversation and reached down for her suitcase. "Never mind, let's go."

Deena's hand was still on the handle, able to hold her grip from slipping it out her fingers and asked, "I don’t need your help. I can carry it myself." She tried pulling back but Davina somehow had the suitcase fully in her hands.

"It's about to break, I'm practically doing you a favor." She noticed the band stickers on her suitcase and claimed to have listened to some of them when she was thirteen.

Deena allowed her guard down and quickly followed behind Davina across the street before the main light turned green. She continued on about the particular bands she knew and who she used to stan and asked Deena about the bands she was unfamiliar with.

Somewhere during the conversation, "Thanks," it was soft but Davina caught it

She offered a soft smile. "You shouldn't thank me. I might not particularly like Klaus, but if he truly is your father, I wouldn’t live with myself by keeping you away from knowing him. At least then, hopefully, you might run away once you do."

"Is he really that bad of a man?"

Davina was quiet at her question. To her, Klaus wasn't just a bad man, he was terrible, and he almost killed her multiple times if it wasn't for Marcel having to save her. She wished she could tell Deena these things in hopes she would stay away, but no one wants to hear the bad of a man you've never met. Especially when he was your father. Family. It also wasn't her place to kill the image she might have of him.

Then she shrugged. "I will let you be the judge of that."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. It was well kept for the most part but it was obvious this house had been through hell, Deena definitely thought Klaus was a deadbeat. This wasn't a family home, but it was a pretty big property. Maybe a rich deadbeat?

Together they stood staring up at the white doors ready to be knocked upon. Davina stared at the door with fear. Every witch sense coursing through her blood told her to turn away and run.

She knew she wasn't allowed here—that witches weren't allowed here, but she came to protect Deena.

Deena wasn't aware of the supernatural world or the fact that her father was a ruthless millennium-old psychotic hybrid, and what lies within the compound was an 'army' of hungry blood-sucking vampires who were already aware of their presence. Vampires who were too scared to leave Klaus if not slaughtered after the gruesome war against Marcel's army and enemies, and whoever they could rally up if Marcel hadn't got to them first.

Nevertheless, Davina watched her new friend lift her hand to knock on the door. Sucking in a deep breath, her knuckles were seconds away from alerting the vampires before something churned in her stomach. She quickly lowered her hand and hurried away.

"I can't do this." Deena panicked.

Davina lingered a bit longer at the door before rushing after her. "Where are you going? He's right inside." She shouted, dragging along the suitcase.

"I can't do it." She breathed heavily. "I-I don't know why I came here in the first place. And I hate myself for being curious, but I don't think I can do it. I should go home with the money I have left."

There was so much roaming through Deena's brain all at once. She thought she was ready to meet with him, but she wasn't, or at least she was convincing herself that she's not. But after losing the only family she had, Deena had grown lonely and desperate for someone to care about her and love her as much as her mother did. That's why she went through her mother's things. She trashed her mother's room, the kitchen, the attic, even her own room in the process. She didn't know what she was searching for until she discovered the letter.

It was meant to be given on her 18th birthday, a couple of months early.

But now that she was here, she didn't feel as pumped as before. Maybe she should've thought a bit longer on the idea before hopping on the next plane to New Orleans? Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself? Maybe this wasn't the right thing for her to do?

Davina grabbed Deena just as she was about to cross the street and tugged on her arm so that she was facing her. "Just breathe." She attempted to calm her down.

Deena rolled her eyes. "I am breathing."

"No, you're not. You look like you're about to pass out." Despite her annoyance, Deena forced herself to calm down. Once seeing she had, Davina narrowed her gaze before speaking. "I have no words to comfort you. Hell, I can't even comfort myself, but I can tell you, that you will regret not meeting him and him not knowing you. You have a chance that many kids don't have; I don't even know whether my dad is alive or not, but you do. And you should take it."

"I feel like I'm gonna ruin his life." Deena admitted.

Davina scoffed with a dragged 'please'.

"I'm serious. How would you feel living a life of your own for however many years and suddenly a seventeen-year-old kid comes knocking at your front door claiming to be your daughter? I would close the door in her face and continue my show!"

"If I was Klaus Mikaelson, I would be pretty damn blessed to have a kid with my blood in their veins at my doorstep. You never know."

"He must be a pretty famous man the way you speak of him."

She shrugged. "You can say that. But look," She took hold of Deena's hand. "Go meet him. Let him know who you are. And if you regret it, you can take the first plane back to Le..."

"Le Havre," she completed.

"Right. Le Havre. And I will be right here supporting you."

Davina was right. At least she had a chance to get to know her father while many don't and she shouldn't let the opportunity pass by. She sucked in a deep breath and began making her way to the white doors, but just as soon as she took her first step, she was stopped by Davina's stretched arm hitting her chest. She appeared focused, waiting for something to come.

She pushed away Davina's arm from deep within her chest, but she stopped her again.

Deena rolled her eyes with a huff. "You give me some go-for-it-speech and now you don't want me to seize the moment while I'm ready?"

"Something isn't right," Davina eased out with worry.

Deena would've guessed the brunette was another spiderman from an alternate universe the way she peered around her surroundings like a guard dog. Or spidey senses, she'd call it. She didn't see nor feel what Davina was and there was no one within their proximity when glancing around to catch what she caught, so she wasn't sure what had her on edge.

"You are right," Both girls jumped at the deep voice of a brown-skinned woman who spoke with a slight thick accent. She wore a green tank-top with dark blue jeans and she had to be around thirty years old, and she was looking at Deena as she came forward. "Something isn't right."

Despite the weird look, at least Deena knew she wasn't a stranger judging by Davina's calm expression and her tensed shoulders releasing.

She removed her arm from Deena's chest with a sigh. "Zoeè? What are you doing on this side of town?"

"I could ask you the same, harvest girl?"

Davina doesn't respond.

"I sensed someone—" Her brown eyes flickered to Deena. "—special entered the city and came runnin' soon as I could. And now that the cloaking spell has worn off and the prophecy is clear, all that I need to seal the deal is standing right in front of me."

Davina stepped in front of Deena in a protective manner once putting together two and two. "I don't know what this is about but let's not do it here. You and I both aren’t safe in this area—" merely glancing back. "—and she has nothing to do with this. This is between me and you."

Deena was clearly confused. "I'm sorry but who is this?"

"Don't matter who I am. What matters is what you gone do to our kind once the Mikaelsons find out you're alive."

Whatever happened, happen so fast that Deena was unable to process absolutely nothing. After Davina screamed out, she pushed her back and lifted her hands in a wizard-like manner before she was thrown against the building wall with no effort.

Deena followed the invisible force to the woman, Zoeè who's smiling back at her and scattered away. She would have ran after Davina, but her first instinct was to get herself to safety first and take a moment to digest what the hell just happened.

"Solem," With a flick of a wrist, Deena failed to cross the road before she found darkness and the cold ground.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read here

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

Book Three of Warm-Blooded :

(Season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 5 | Discreetly Obvious

~ 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 ~

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.7k~

warnings: strong language, violence against witches, murder, attempted sacrifice

a/n: this is the 2nd chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). This chapter features both my OC’s AND Klaus’s pov with a proper pov switch—where Rebekah and Elijah are introduced for the first time. It is also the first and last chapter dual pov will be featured in the same chapter throughout the series. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼 | 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗰𝘆

      𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 surrounded Deena's unconscious body as she began to awaken slowly. It was the blazing heat of fire marked around her frame, skinning her flesh of salted sweat which woke her up. She was faced with a bright color of reddish-orange dancing in the sky. The tug of her wrist slammed back down onto the cold concrete bed. She lifted her other arm—slammed right back down. Her legs—back to the bed they went. Lifting her head, she saw her ligaments had been restricted, tied down by some magical force that kept her positioned like a snow angel without the snow.

        "Que ce passe t-il (What’s going on)??" She struggled to break free, her brain unable to comprehend the matter of force that has bound her body to the bed without physical ropes. Just like when Davina was thrown against the wall and how she fainted when she felt fine before. Her breathing heaved. "Help! Someone help me, please! I've been kidnapped!"

        No matter the amount of force she used, gravity pulled her right back down.

        But there could still be hope. As she took in her surroundings, met with the dark night of the clear moon illuminating her brown skin, she knew off bat she was in a cemetery. The grey stones and engraved names and burnt-out candles and freshly bloomed flowers gave it away. And through the flames, Deena spotted a shadow. Six shadows scattered around her. They stood still with their hands at the sky as if they were praying.

        "Hey," Deena called out to the nearest shadow. Though she noticed their eyes were closed, they could still hear her. "Hey, get me out of here! You got the wrong person! What are you doing?"

        A twig snapped behind Deena and one of the shadowed individuals revealed themselves to the panicked teenager.

          "I know you," Deena exclaimed. "You're the woman I met today, Zoeè. Please, if you let me go I'll pretend nothing happened. I'll say nothing I swear. I don't even know you."

        The woman, Zoeè, peered down at Deena, a glint in her eyes as they found comfort elsewhere. Maybe she did feel bad for Deena getting caught up in all this mess, for something she had no knowledge of, knowing she deserved none of the torture that was to come as she was just a child. And she has never harmed a child nor was it in her plan to do so, but her pleads weren't enough to free her. She was determined to go through with the tricky spell. It had to be done.

        With a small shoulder lift, "I'm sorry, hun. If I could do it any other way then I would, but you are the key to strengthening our coven and placing back the balance which your existence upsets. But I'll try to make it quick."

        Deena is riddled with fear at the sight of Zoeè's hands locked on the sides of her head. She kicked her feet, lifted herself from the chest in hopes of shifting her head from within her hold. Deena had no idea what was to come or the reasoning behind Zoeè's hand positioning; she just felt like something bad was going to happen and wanted to prevent that gut feeling eating her within.

        "No, no, no—" The haunting chants grew louder, words Zoeè began to repeat back. The flames intensified, and something unexplainable sent Deena into a surge of pain.

She screamed.

        It was as if her bones were merging into one and her heart was being squeezed by rusted nails. Like her nails were being ripped one-by-one or a giant soul-sucking monster blowing its hot air against her body draining Deena of life. Her body has never experienced anything like this before. A wet substance begins to leak from her nose, curved down the sides of her sweaty cheeks and painted Zoeè's hands. Which she didn't mind. She was expecting the mess plus more. Then from the corners of her eyes. Blood so thick it could form a river to drown in; unable to see nor hear as the blood continued to rip her from life.

       "ÇA FAIT MAL (IT HURTS) , STOP!" Deena's screams were cut short by a puddle of blood coughing violently out of her dry lungs, the metallic taste filled in every corner of her mouth, seized in between her gums and the hardest parts her toothbrush couldn't reach. She cried but it was hard to tell which were tears or blood. "P-please."

       And as her prayers were answered, a gust of wind blew through the dark air and a loud snap of a thick bone followed by a thud silenced the air, just after a slushing sound of blood leaves the flesh of a woman screaming in pain.

        The heat from the fire died out and Deena's left arm was lifted from the magical hold, but she was too weak to lift a muscle and the blood continued to pour, choking her to death.

        Another high-pitched scream filled her thick ears. A body drops. And finally, Deena was able to breathe when Zoeè removed her hands with a jolt, the scent of fear grew at the bloody scene unfolding before her. The excruciating suffering stopped integrating her insides and her body didn't feel bound to the concrete bed. And though Deena still had no will to move a muscle, she forced herself up enough to spit out the blood clogged in her throat and plopped right onto her back.

        The puddle of blood led Zoeè to the dark blond man with raging golden almost yellow eyes. His pink lips drenched in dark blood, curled into a devilish grin. "I heard there was a party without me. Or did I ruin it already?" The lifeless body of a witch Zoeè knew plopped to the ground. He placed his finger between his lips after wiping the stained blood around his mouth, savoring the last taste of the witch he drained within seconds.

        Hitched breath, Zoeè stumbled back in fear at the presence of the hybrid. She almost tripped off the stand that held up the concrete bed, but held her position immediately. "K-Klaus," She swallowed hard, eyes frantic at her dead coven sisters who lie with their throats ripped out.

      Deena's head twitched. She could've sworn she heard the name which her father possessed, but the thick blood in her ears prevented her from hearing much but low vibrations. Her body has been through too much. And frankly, she's exhausted. As she clawed for air drenched in cold sweat, darkness comforted her body and her eyes slowly began to shut.

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      𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 with pride in his work of the dead. He quite missed the thrill back when there were no restrictions and he could feed his cravings by going on a little witch hunt—well, it's not as easy now as it was before. Witches had tasteful blood apart from muggles. He could almost taste their magic being absorbed into his bloodstream though magic had no use in his bones. Who knew all it took was Davina's cry for help from the witches again to allow Klaus to experience the good old days.

        Zoeè, the annoying witch who has had it out for Klaus since the treaty had been placed, followed the silent footsteps of his brother, the noble Elijah Mikaelson who appeared a few seconds late to the feast. "Now, now, Niklaus. We have a deal with the witches; we leave them in peace with their practices if the favor toward us is extended."

        Klaus saw how Zoeè's presence calmed upon Elijah's arrival, though fear was brooding beneath her skin. Feared blood was the best. His nobility title made Klaus nervous as he knew his brother had a tendency to seek sympathy for the opposing team if a door was led open, especially when he was faced with a witch Klaus caught sneaking out his bedroom the past few mornings. He must be done with the wolf girl in the Bayou. He just needs to make sure it stays closed and the plan doesn't crumble. Though there wasn't much planning put into this surprise attack.

        "But there is a problem," Klaus looked to his brother for support. Testing his loyalty. "Right, brother?"

        "Indeed, there is,"

        Klaus's grin broadened.

        1 Mikaelson is a warning. 2 Mikaelsons was a threat. Zoeè felt uneasy in the presence of Klaus Mikaelson alone. He was unreasonable and his actions were too unpredictable. Maybe with the Noble Elijah here to control his brother's impulse, she may be spared.

        "This got nothing to do with either of you." Zoeè dismissed the problem with a shrug. Her thudded heartbeat in Klaus's ear told him otherwise.

        Elijah crossed the dead witch and revealed his clean-shaven face and pale skin illuminating under the moonlight, his brown eyes trained on Zoeè while smoothing down the creases on his suit. "Actually, it does. You see, we received a message that the girl you intend on sacrificing tonight is a child miraculously born of Mikaelson blood. And Klaus is to be the father." Elijah cocked his head upon Zoeè's uncomfortable expression. "Of which you already knew seeing how you are not surprised. Now, we know it is impossible for my brother to reproduce any biological life-form as he has been technically dead for the last millennium. But because it is simply a rumor, we must investigate. And to do that, we need the child. Alive."

         Elijah followed the scent of blood to the child who currently lay unconscious. He could sense the torture her body has been through by the clogged air forcing itself from her lungs. He felt for the girl. As opposed to Klaus who's afraid of the possibility of this child being his which he knew sounded ridiculous, but it was something he couldn't ignore. Therefore, he was terrified. He refused to look at the child, but he could hear her faded heartbeat losing its strength.

        "This is witch business and the Mikaelsons are not allowed on sacred grounds. Nothing personal."

       "This is very personal," Klaus growled. It could create thunder alone and rumbled in Zoeè's bones. "Seeing how you and your little witchy friends would go through great lengths to tear down my empire and conspire against me again, when I have granted you your very freedom to do as the witches please as long as they stay in their lane and be of use when I need them. You have even brought in some girl off the streets, claim she is my child, to lure me here and kill me! Pray now to your god, because I cannot be killed!"

        "There is no lie or conspire against you, Klaus! The child is yours by blood. But why does it matter what we do with her when none of you knew she existed?"

        "Because whether she is Klaus's child or not, she is presumed to be a Mikaelson. And if she is, you have already broken your treaty with us. Therefore, you hold no upper ground and you are merely a snack." Klaus rolled his eyes upon his little sister's arrival. Of course, she had to make her entrance the best of all.

        Zoeè jumped at Rebekah's tall figure sneaking up behind the frightened witch. She lifted her hand to cast out a spell when she saw Rebekah reeling too closely to the unconscious girl, but before Zoeè was able to speak her first syllable, Rebekah was at her side within seconds and tossed her against the concrete wall before she had time to react.

        Rebekah slung her hair confidently over her shoulder. "Nice try, but that was cute."

        Klaus peered from the corner of his eyes, watching silently as his sister rushed to check on the girl. She checked her pulse though all of them could hear her faded heartbeats. But just like him, they were unsure if the child was going to make it given her current condition.

        It was making them nervous. Rebekah even more.

        She did what she thought was right at the moment and fed the child her blood. While doing so, her free hand lifted the girl's head as she slowly began to awaken and was forced to swallow down her blood so that she wouldn't choke. "Take your time, love,  drink slowly," She sung.

        "Yes, I agree." Elijah agreed with Rebekah's point. "And how do you presume we should handle this information?"

        Zoeè somehow managed to her feet with a limp. She was surrounded by the Mikaelsons and that was making her nervous. Her only hope was Elijah though he failed to call off his siblings. She still had hoped what they shared was real enough to save her.

        Klaus stepped forward, next to Elijah with his fangs piercing out his gums. His mouth filled with blood from the previous witch he fed on. "I say we kill them all. Each and every one of them. May their sacrificed blood teach the witches a lesson or two about going against us." He encouraged.

        Zoeè never imagined dying this way but if she did, then so be it. She will die willfully for her coven and her ancestors and her beliefs, but she will not go out without a warning. "Even if you kill me, it won't end here! The coven is aware of the prophecy and the power that lies in her blood. And as more discovers her danger, they gone keep coming until she's dead." She pressed her hand against her bruised side, a metallic taste of blood slipping between her lips.

        "Simple. Then we kill the whole coven. Poof—" Klaus emphasized his hands as if he were blowing up mini bombs. "Problem solved."

        "Niklaus," Elijah sent his brother an unspoken glare. Klaus lifted his shoulders with a shrug as if he should consider the proposition. Klaus's irrational actions will lead to much more than a coven on their heads and they don't need any of that. "We don't want a bloodbath on our hands, we just want the child. Once we have her in a safe place, we will be out your hair. And if the rumor is false, she will be sent back. How does that sound? Do we have ourselves a deal?"

        Suddenly—

        Rebekah's body flew back as she was feeding the child by the force of Zoeè's magic. She then snapped her neck. Klaus wasted no time and went in for the kill, but was thrown back into someone's grave and pinned to the wall where he could not move, bound by a magical force restraining him. Elijah was brought to his knees writhing in pain.

        Zoeè rushed in front of the child to keep them away from having her. "I'm sorry, but you can't have her. I will complete the spell if it means saving my coven, and then I will sacrifice the child while you all watch." Zoeè stretched her hands over Deena's unconscious body and began the spell all by herself. She didn't care if it was taking too much of her or if it was killing her from inside. She needed to complete the spell no matter what.

        Despite the pain, Elijah rose to his feet. He saw it was up to him since his siblings were unable to fight back. "Then forgive me," Within seconds, Elijah's brown eyes were coated licorice black. Black veins shrouded beneath his skin around his eyes. He was a demon. His true nature. "I have tried to reason with you but it seems reasoning isn't your thing. And one thing you should know of me is that I am not patient. And my patience runs out faster than my temper."

        With a swift movement, he took Zoeè's neck into his mouth and ran her dry, releasing Klaus who fell to the ground. Her screams filled their ears like sweet music. Dead with a snap of her neck.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read here

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

Book Three of Warm-Blooded :

(Season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 6 | Treat The Disease, Treat The Symptoms

~ 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 ~

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

- what happens when you turn an entitled rich werewolf into a vampire (a new look at Henry Benoit) … link below

Book Three of Warm-Blooded

(season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 6 | Treat The Disease, Treat The Symptoms

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

— Klaus Mikaelson and his somewhat mortal daughter, Deena Salée are finally the same age (21). He no longer physically passes as her father—he barely did before. And now it’s time he retains another family title to ward off suspicion …link below

Book Three of Warm-Blooded

(season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 3 | Your Sword And Shield

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

— a vulnerable moment between Klaus Mikaelson and his somewhat mortal daughter, Deena Salée. The two have been struggling with their relationship since coming into his life, that it’s time to sit down and communicate to understand each other best even if it’s not something Klaus is used to.… (there’s more to this scene) link below

Book one of Warm-Blooded

(season 2 of the originals)

Chapter 15 | The Original Tribrid

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

— Kol Mikaelson will seize any opportunity to tease his big brother, Klaus Mikaelson, especially when it involves his somewhat mortal niece (Klaus’s daughter)…link below

Warm-Blooded Link

Chapter 20 | A King Does Not Run, He Disappears (1st pic, book two of Warm-Blooded, season 3 of the Originals)

Chapter 3 | Your Sword And Shield (2nd pic, book three of Warm-Blooded, season 5 of the Originals)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

Book Three of Warm-Blooded :

(Season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 7 | A Piece Of Me To Carry

~ 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 ~

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4.5k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, classic Niklaus resorting to violence and drinking away his problems

a/n: this is the 3rd chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). This chapter features Klaus’s pov, an insider to his struggles accepting his role as a father. Rebekah and Elijah makes their return. Davina as well. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲

       𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃. From her thick curly roots, to the smeared blood currently being wiped clean from her delicate features, to the soft beatings of her heart indicating she was calmly resting. In his hand, he held an old photo of him sitting next to Vanessa. Who was clearly the girl's mother given the identical features they shared, alongside a letter explaining the situation of his existence with clear instructions to NOT come to New Orleans.

        Yet the girl—Deena, as stated in the letter—came anyway. Hard-headed.

        Klaus remembered Vanessa almost as if it was yesterday. He met the young aspiring witch at a local art exhibit held in The French Quarter where she first struck his interest, besides being the only who wore silly socks with a tight-fitting dress. She was not only well-spoken in art, but she had a way with words in which Klaus wouldn't notice the smile he wore until she told him, and she was her own person with a peculiar taste in fashion. And he liked it. In fact, he loved it. They hit it off quickly and spent every chance they had with each other, until one day she disappeared without a word. Klaus assumed it was because of him and didn't blame her since she was too good for his world and she deserved more than what he could provide for her.

        "Impossible," Were the first words Klaus said. He tossed the photo to the floor and faced his back to Deena to slip her from his memory, to Elijah who spoke not one word until Klaus spoke first.

        Elijah picked the photo from the floor and placed it on the table beside the written letter before Klaus seized a chance to rip it. "Whether it's true or not, the child needed our help and we gave that to her. Nik—"

       "You expect me to believe this child is mine from a silly photo with a woman I dallied with years ago and some loveless letter of lies?" Growled Klaus. His mouth suddenly felt dry and though he did his best to put up a front, the fear in his eyes was evident and by the end of his words, panic had entered. "I am a vampire. I cannot procreate!"

        Rebekah rinsed the cloth of blood in the warm water of dark red ready to be refilled and continued to clean the child's face and arms the best she could. The scent of her blood was alluring, preying them to feed into their cravings with just a taste, a single drop of her blood until there was no restraint to stop. But they have lived long enough to control their thirst, and the blood lust wasn't as appealing when the victim's a child and presumed to be a Mikaelson.

        "Magic made you a vampire as us all, Nik." Rebekah pointed out. "But you were born a werewolf; it courses in your blood given by your father, so it is possible. Ludicrous but possible. And we can confirm it with your blood and hers. And a witch."

        That shut Klaus up.

        "The child has already been through enough, and we can't be sure of which witch we can trust until we figure out the origin of this madness. Let's not bother her anymore and hope she wakes soon." As Elijah spoke, he watched Deena intensively under his black lashes and compared her physical similarities to his little brother. Her lips. Her ears. Even her nose with a slight readjustment, accurately portrayed Klaus but there was no way to be sure without that spell Rebekah mentioned.

        Rebekah rolled her eyes. "She will be fine. With my blood in her system, she's healing a lot faster than before. And I know a witch we can use; she was just here not too long ago banging on our doors to hear her out. And by the looks of it, she cares enough to do anything for her," Rinsing the last of Deena's blood into the bowl, Rebekah placed the rag on the dresser and carried the bowl into her arms to be refilled. She caught sight of Klaus's quietness, his eyes never leaving the child and added, "And if we hold this off any longer, we might as well shave our heads bald and pay ourselves a visit to the loony bin, and I don't rock a bald look. I would rather stab myself with the white oak before I plug in a bloody razor."

        Rebekah left for the bathroom.

        They knew exactly who Rebekah spoke of—Davina Claire, the teenage witch who wanted but nothing to do with the Mikaelsons. More specifically Klaus. After Elijah thought about the decision, he began to view Rebekah's point and agreed. However, the decision wasn't up to him.

         Klaus could feel his brother's heated stare as he looked to him for answers he didn't have nor wished to answer. He stood quietly acquainted with fear more than anyone has witnessed since Mikael's invasion back in 1919. He does want the answer, but he's too prideful to ask for help and he was too afraid of the outcome.

        Elijah then understood he would have to make the decision for them both and found Rebekah's gaze as she exited the bathroom with a clean bowl of warm water. "Let's do the spell."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

        𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒. Her eyes never left Klaus as she made her way down the hallway and into the spacious room, waiting for a reason to use her magic against him, until she found Deena lying unconscious on the freshly made bed in the room she had once lived in back when Marcel was around and things were a bit hectic because of her. Or at least similar. She rushed to Deena's side with a gasp.

        "She will be alright," Elijah answered her panicked thoughts as she pulled back at the blood staining her hands when she reached out for her. She sent him a soft glare and carefully took Deena's hand into hers. "Will you be able to perform the spell?"

        Klaus, remain quiet. The quietest he's ever been.

        Davina noticed her friend appeared a lot brighter in her complexion despite her blood-stained clothes. Even noticing her cuts vividly healing before her eyes which meant she was given vampire blood, and she felt guilty. Like it was her fault for not protecting her or keeping her away from Klaus as she intended to do. And by keeping the supernatural world a secret to protect her, she felt she had done more harm than good.

        "I can try but since her blood is tainted, I'll have to—"

        "The blood on her clothes is pure. Can you use that instead?" Asked Rebekah.

        Davina narrowed her gaze from Deena's stained clothes. It was easy magic she's done before and responded, "I'm only doing this for Deena and no one else, so don't call me here again. I don't wanna be mixed up in your family drama." Her gaze found Deena's. "And she shouldn't have to either."

        "You have my word," Elijah promised.

        If Klaus was in his right mind, he would've had something to say about this but for the first time in a while, he had no energy to feed into petty drama.

        Because Davina knew she could trust Elijah out of all the original siblings, she began the spell. She emptied the bowl of marbles she found on the dresser and began to remove Deena's blood into the bowl leaving her shirt spotless as if it had been recently washed. She then faced Klaus. "I need your blood." She demanded.

        One by one, they looked to Klaus who was currently in his own world. He didn't hear Davina but he soon felt their stares and allowed Elijah's voice to be heard as he called his name softly. Of course, he was worried for his brother. He's never failed to hide his worrisome in times like this. Klaus followed his gesture towards Davina waiting for something he had. What was it she asked for? My blood? Without wasting another second, he bit into his wrist and held it over the bowl as his blood began to mix in with Deena's. He pulled back his arm as he began to heal and waited in the far corner.

        Rebekah practically hovered over Davina as she continued on with the spell and Elijah stood in the center of everyone, his eyes never leaving Klaus. About five minutes later, Davina stood from her seat indicating she was finished with the spell.

        Rebekah peeled herself from the wall. "Well, is it true? Has my brother officially knocked some poor woman up against her will?"

        Klaus saw the way Davina looked at Deena, the look was enough to give him the answers they longed for, but he needed to hear it from her lips. He was desperate as they all were for the answer. She sighed finally meeting Klaus's anxious gaze. "She's a hundred percent Klaus's child." Davina announced.

        Klaus was shocked into silence.

        Not one word has been spoken as they struggled to process nature's loophole. A child, a true Mikaelson, here in flesh by the blood and DNA of Klaus, the Original Hybrid unable to create any lifeform of the living. It was difficult to create a logical answer in their heads how any of this was possible. Klaus has slept with countless women throughout the centuries, so why is it now that it's possible for his seed to create a mortal being? What made Vanessa so special out of all?

        Rebekah felt bitterness towards the situation. Though she was happy her brother has a child he could watch grow old and she has become an aunty, she knew that kind of possibility wasn't possible for her. And she desired what Klaus had—a family. From her own DNA, conceived naturally from her body, children of her own. But she was a vampire. Unlike Klaus, she could not procreate. There was no loophole for her.

        However, Elijah failed to hide his glee. After years of cleaning up after his brother's retaliation, years of watching his demons mold his anger to fear that has built a wall between his misery and his own happiness; wanting nothing but the best for him and for him to let go of his grudges against the world and start letting people in, he believed this could be a chance for Klaus to start over fresh. For not only Klaus, but for himself and for Rebekah. Maybe with the child's presence, could diminish their negative ways and bring back empathy. Something they haven't felt in a while.

        Klaus shuffled into the desk behind him, his tear-filled eyes never left the unconscious girl. He didn't look at her with hate or displeasure; it was a softer look that couldn't be explained in words. There was too much roaming around in his head and in his heart and in his actions, it was too much for him to process.

        Davina suddenly lifted the blood-filled bowl from off the bed and placed it on the smaller dresser near the bed in case Deena moved in her slumber. She clapped her hands together, gathering their destruct attention. The awkward silence was too much for her to stand in. "If that's all, I'm leaving." She sent Deena an apologetic stare before she was already out the door.

        In a flash, Davina's backside was pressed against the opened door with a hard thud. Klaus held her by the neck, seizing to scare her by his threatening presence. "What kind of trick are you playing, Davina? Do you think I can be easily fooled? Do you not fear your worthless life?" He tightened his hand as she fought out his hold. She even sank her fingers between so that she could breathe.

       "I did the spell like you asked!" Davina cried out.

        Elijah sped towards the abrupt commotion while Rebekah took a hesitant step forward, in an attempt to pull Klaus from off Davina before he did anything he'd regret, but his grip loosened from her neck as an enormous amount of pain surged his brain. He fell to his knees while gripping his head like a maniac. His groans of pain and her lifted hand allowed them to put together the pieces.

        Davina stumbled back as she caught her breath, rubbing her now red neck, eyes frantic on the other siblings in case they were going to try her. They held their ground. "Look, Deena's my friend. And as much as I wish I had sabotaged the spell and made your lives miserable, it wouldn't be fair to her and I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. She is your daughter whether you like it or not. And if you don't believe me, fine! Find another witch who's willing to do the spell. Not that you have many to call. I'm outta here."

        The pain stopped as soon as Davina left the room. Klaus fell to the floor relieved of his torment. He will have his chance to murder that witch with his own bare hands someday. For now, he was focused on regaining his consciousness.

         Elijah was already at his side to help him up. "Niklaus—"

        "I don't need your help!" He pushed away his brother's helping hand and stood on his own. Everyone stood in silence. Klaus took one last look at Deena and fled the room within seconds.

        Elijah sighed.

        "How is this possible, Elijah?" Rebekah asked, staring at the child trying to find the similarities. There were a few, the same Elijah pointed out earlier, but it was hard to believe the child was real. "Despite him being a hybrid...is—is this natural? Is she truly his offspring? And If so, can he produce more?"

        "This is all new to me as it is for you, but spells cannot lie. And I trust Davina. She is a hundred percent Klaus's offspring. Now for the lather, I will have to look into that."

        She stopped at his side. "But—"

        "I said I will look into it," Rebekah recognized that tone and held off from asking any more questions that couldn't be easily answered. "Why don't you find the child something she can wear when she awakens? I will go find our brother and talk some sense into him."

        Without a word, Rebekah sped over to where Deena's luggage sat to look for come clean clothes.

        "And Rebekah?"

        She glanced up with a hum.

        He motioned his finger around the room. "Make sure the house is empty before she awakens. We don't need an incident to occur or a hungry vampire's blood on our hands."

        She rolled her eyes. "I'm always stuck with babysitting when I can do more than that," She whined. "The child I can do, but a house of pre-war vampires? They are already a pain in the ass."

        "Just get it done."

        She rolled her eyes and continued to search through Deena's clothes.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

       𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 entering the bar he sat at to drain his sorrows in. It was only a matter of time before Elijah tracked him down. He never ventured out of his usual locations and his secretive spots were a work in process. Bringing up his empire took up the majority of his time having to fight through an army of vampires loyal to his dear Marcel. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to kill the boy he raised to make an example out of him, so he let him flee.

        But none of that seemed to matter now that he found out he's a father.

        Father.

        A strange title he couldn't force himself to withhold. And instead of believing his forced reality, he decided to drink forth to a past he lived before the child was a thing. His glorious days he might call it.

        "You learn of the existence of your child and yet you sit here to drink it away?" Elijah swiftly made his way toward Klaus.

        Klaus placed down his 5th empty glass of whiskey and released a stressful sigh upon Elijah's disturbing question. "I do not wish to hear your nagging, brother unless you have come to join me?" With his head dangled over the glass-stained counters, he signal the waiter to pour him another glass.

        Elijah then unbuttoned his jacket and ordered the waiter to serve him another round of whiskey as he took his seat next to him. They sat in silence. But knowing Elijah, he couldn't hold off the conversation any longer.

        "What are you thinking, Niklaus?"

        "I think of nothing. But I do think I need a stronger drink, don't you agree?" Klaus was clearly bothered by the question and ordered stronger liquor he could drown in, which meant there was something on his mind. Elijah knew what it was, but understood his tough-hearted brother needed a little push.

        "Your expression tells me otherwise." He thanked the waiter who placed down his drink, and took a small sip before he continued. "Are you afraid you will become a bad father?"

        "And so she has gotten to you with her puny lies? Oh, the Noble Elijah." Klaus mocked his title with a scoff. "The Elijah I knew would not be easily swayed by an amenable spell performed by the very witch who has tried to kill me more than twice and more to come in the future. A spell so that she can forge a weakness to catch me off guard when I have no weaknesses to be used!"

        "And the brother I know would never be troubled with such matter if you truly believe her spell was purged." Klaus's heart thudded faster than its usual speedy pace, which Elijah heard or else he wouldn't have continued his boring speech. "No matter how you feel or what Davina's true intentions are, I do trust her and I trust she would not lie about something as great as this. Think about it, Niklaus, the girl's mother disappeared without a trace and when you asked of her to be located, the witch could not find her on any map which meant she was either cloaked or dead. A cloaking spell is only used when you want to hide from someone or you have something to hide."

        "Yes, thank you, Elijah, for explaining to me the usage of a cloaking spell. Care to explain how to have a quiet drink without your brother pestering him with bogus ideas next?"

        Elijah sighed. "I wish you would not joke for once."

        Elijah wasn't phased when Klaus slammed his glass against the counter and faced his brother with an irritated look on his face. "Well, how else should I process this kind of information, brother? Shall we light a candle in a dark room, stare each other in the eyes, drink from goats' blood, then share our darkest fears and insecurities with one another?" He offered, humor on his tongue.

        Elijah wore no smile on his face at his brother's silly offer. "I wish you would be honest with me for once and not hold up such a wall as if I am here to shame you of the very thing I want you to have—a family."

        He faced the counter with the glass already at his lips. It was beginning to taste like water. "I already have a family." He boasted.

        "And now you have a daughter, who is family."

        The glass pressed heavily on his bottom lip when he suddenly froze. His eyes grew big hearing the D-word and family placed into the same sentence, no longer able to hold up his glass or Elijah would see his hand was shaking. Turning his head to control himself or Elijah would catch the glossy glint filling his vision. Forcing his heartbeat to slow or Elijah would detect his anxiety. A new weakness. One he kept struggling to deny.

        Elijah made a good point about Vanessa because anyone who knew her knew she would never run from anything not even Klaus himself, but of course because of his nature, the thought never crossed his mind. He only assumed it was because of him, not the result of an action they both consented to.

        Klaus could still feel his brother's stare. He knew that if he didn't say something now—the absolute truth behind the wall he kept gluing up—Elijah would get it out of him one way or another. And frankly, he just needed an ear to hear him out. And since Cami was not in viewpoint, he had no choice but to open up to his brother.

        "Fine, you win. You want to know how I feel about becoming a father? I am petrified."

       He finally faced Elijah who had been waiting all day for this exact moment to unfold, only to feel guilty for pressing the matter. But it was what he wanted, and Klaus would give him just that.

        "Given the lack of fatherliness I received, I don't believe the subject is far-fetched. I mean, the girl is practically a young adult, what do I have in common with her? I have lived a self-ruled life of volition and a deep crave for violence as I rain hell upon my enemies, to suddenly become a father of a teenager in less than an hour?" He scoffed. His eyes suddenly black with anger while gulping down his drink in one sip and slammed the glass (almost breaking it) against the counter which caught a little attention. "Her mother knew of this knowledge yet she decided to keep it from me. Just wait until I track her down, she will never hear the last of me."

        Elijah was finally able to understand a piece of Klaus's mind. There is potential and he was already showing it despite his crave for harming the child's mother. "You have missed her childhood; her first word, her first steps, her early years of growth and you feel guilty for that. But now you have a chance to miss no more of her development. This can be a new beginning for us all, for you, Niklaus. Maybe this isn't a bad thing."

        "What if..." He swallowed hard. "What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not...good at this? Good enough? I have no experience of this sort and I don't always have the best interest of whomever I come across."

        Elijah is taken back at his vulnerability and placed his hand on his shoulder as a form of comfort. "No one is ever ready for fatherhood, it just happens. But you are not alone in this, you have me and Rebekah at your side. Together we shall find a way. Always and forever." He smiled warmly.

         For a moment, both brothers shared the weight of Klaus's fears. Hope sparked in his eyes and with comfort he knew his brother would always be at his side no matter the gravity of the situation and it made him feel a little less lonely. Almost happy even, until he remembered Zoeè and the silly prophecy she spoke of conjured out of ignorance, and the witches who seek to fulfill it by sacrificing Deena.

        He stood to his feet with a mission written on his face. "Enough milking my sorrows, brother, I have Camille for that. Because we," While placing down his bill, "have a long list of witches to kill."

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: strong language, a stalking presence, mentions of suicide, shitty French translations

a/n: this is the 4th chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). I know the lore around vampires; Rebekah and Elijah are just being weird, already full. And just weird. This chapter has slight omniscient pov. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝗛𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻

        𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄, Deena woke up with a gasp almost as if she was drowning. She immediately sat up on guard as she remembered last night's situation. However, she wasn't in a graveyard, she was in bed, in someone else's room. And it wasn't night. The morning sun blinded her and blocking out the light didn't help either.

        At her feet, a pair of folded clothes lie. It came from out her suitcase—a pair of blue mom jeans with a short-sleeved basic shirt and a yellow smiley face in the center. This house, this room, must belong to the people who saved her that night. Or was it last night?

        It's unsure how long she's been unconscious.

        Maybe Davina ended up finding her afterall and brought her home? Which meant another long day finding Klaus all over again.

        She sighed as she got out of bed, cocking her head at how easily she stood without any aches or pain done to her body, which made no sense. She almost died. That pain...that feeling of extortion never left her memory. It was nothing she has ever felt in her entire life, something she never wants to feel again. And Deena wasn't dumb, whatever happened that night should've had a bigger impact to her body. So why did she feel completely fine?

        She decided to think about it later as a foul stench came under her arms. I've definitely been out for some days. She grabbed the clothes and took a nice long, warm shower in the spacious bathroom connected to the room. After getting dressed and pushing back her thick hair with a black cloth material headband, she was left with only one door yet to explore—the door which led to whomever house this was.

        There was no sign of life as she followed down the thick gray hallways decorated with a minimalistic taste. Her hand brushed against the rails peering out toward the open courtyard. Also empty. Deena even noticed a faded red color beneath her feet, a broken window a few doors down, and a door with its handle broken off. The place appeared somewhat rundown but it had a nice homey touch to the area. It was pretty huge so it had to be expensive.

        But where the hell are the people?

        She has passed by a few rooms, yet there was no sign of life, or the people who saved her that night. Not even Davina showing out from somewhere to greet her. It was so quiet she could hear her own breathing.

        Making her way down the old stairs toward the open courtyard, Deena couldn't help but feel like there was someone behind her. Someone so close she could feel their warm breath against her neck, but when she spun to confirm her suspicion while rubbing her neck red, there was no one there. However, for a moment, she could've sworn a shadow was standing at the top of the stairs.

         "Hello?" Deena decided to finally speak. She touched her throat slightly, remembering the thick feeling of blood clogged in her lungs. "Is there anyone here? N'importe qui (anyone)?"

        The strange tingly feeling of someone's presence returned. She ignored it.

        Deena found herself in a huge kitchen. It was the biggest kitchen her eyes had ever laid upon. If her mom was here, she'd love this kitchen and be in it all day. Herself too. It was spotless and brand new, almost as if it's never been touched. Odd how the house appeared as though it went through hell but the kitchen remains untouched.

        A gust of wind blew against her backside as Deena furthered into the kitchen.

        She was about to reach for the fridge handle in hopes there was something to eat, until a deep voice rumbled her organs. "I would not open that fridge if I were you. It's a bit of a mess and not prepared for your arrival."

        Deena spun around with a gasp, slamming her body against the cool fridge. She's faced with a tall, brown-headed man dressed in a sharp freshly-steamed black suit. She eyed the kitchen for a weapon to defend herself from the mysterious man with a familiar tone of voice.

        Recognizing her fear, he took a respectable step back to allow Deena her space. "My apologies, I tend to be silent on my feet." He explained. She only stared. "Where are my manners, my name is Elijah Mikaelson—" Deena's head perked at his surname. Mikaelson? "—Niklaus's elder brother, your...uncle I suppose is the proper word." Elijah noticeably cringed at the word 'Uncle'. Just as Klaus, it tasted foreign on his tongue.

        It took Deena a moment to connect Niklaus to Klaus Mikaelson, her father. So this wasn't Davina's place afterall. "He's alive?" She lets down her guard with a question that's been on her mind.

        Elijah sized the child for unhealed injuries. "Very much so. He is a tough man to kill." Of course, she'd be perfectly fine with Rebekah's blood in her system, but he was worried for her mentally. No child should ever have to go through a tragic experience even by the hands of witches and their long history of child sacrifices. "How do you feel? You weren't in the best shape when we found you."

        "I feel..." There were many things Deena currently felt; confused, energetic, powerful, relieved to be alive and to have found her father though she's yet to meet him, a lot better than when she arrived, and... "Hungry. Very hungry."

        "Yes," He searched around the kitchen for food that wasn't there. "Hunger. We should get you something to eat and I will make that happen. Come with me."

        Deena followed behind Elijah. "How long have I been out?"

        "About two days or so."

        Deena stopped in her trail.

        Elijah also heard when her footsteps haltered. When he faced her, he noticed a distant look in her brown eyes. "There seems to be something on your mind? What is bothering you?"

        Deena shook her head. "It's nothing. I shouldn't bother you w—"

        "I don't mind the bother. In fact, I would be more than eager to know whatever is on your mind at all times if you, of course, permit me to know."

        Her lips parted as she took a step back, not expecting his response. His attention. His care for her well-being and a will to listen to her and whatever was said out her mouth. She hasn't felt this way since her mother passed away and liked it. A lot. It was what she wanted, for someone to care about her again. She could only wonder what her father was going to be like when they met.

        "I-I don't," Deena shrugged, stumbling over her words to make sense of everything. "I don't understand what happened when I woke up in that graveyard. That woman seemed to know me but I don't know her—I don't know anyone here! She told me I could help her coven, that I was upsetting the balance of magic...and threw a girl I met against the wall like a wizard. And caused so much pain to my body without touching me. I don't...how? How's that possible?"

        Elijah took note of Deena's confusion. He was as well confused himself given her mother and her long history of heroic acts. "Your mother never told you..." He trailed off to leave the answer up for his niece to fill in and make sense of.

        Deena blinked. "Told me what?"

        Elijah fell to silence with a soft hum.

        Wishing to press the matter no more and lead the child to a source of human food, his ears perked at footsteps heading in their direction. He took a cautious step in front of Deena in a protective manner until the footsteps came with a face entering the kitchen. Elijah then backed down.

        A white woman with long, flowy blond hair dressed in a leather jacket with a light pair of jeans (in this heat) entered the kitchen they were just about to exit. She noticed Deena on her way in and rose her threaded brows in surprise almost as if she'd seen a ghost. "Well, look who is alive. Of course, you would be, you're a Mikaelson; we always survive whatever hell is thrown our way." She paused, thinking. "Well...not all, but most find a way."

        Deena looked to Elijah for confirmation. "This is R—"

        She stiffened as the woman went in for a hug. She failed to warn Deena of this action and looked to Elijah for help who simply allowed it to happen. "Wow. You smell good," She inhaled deeply. To the vampires, to Elijah more specifically, the saying could've meant anything and he was going to stop his sister from whatever impulse until Rebekah sensed him. "Relax, Elijah, it's a compliment. You know I would never harm a child nevertheless my niece."

        "Sorry...who are you?"

        "Rebekah Mikaelson, but you may call me Aunt Bekah. I quite like it; It has a nice ring to it. Aunt Bekah." She repeated to see how it sounded off her lips again.

        Another Mikaelson whom Davina mentioned. His sister. Unsure of their ages, they both appeared quite young. Rebekah near her age or older and Elijah in his mid 20's. She wasn't sure where her father fits in yet but given the picture he took with her mother, he should be in his late 30's or early 40s possibly. Davina also mentioned they were troubling and terrorizing the city, but they didn't seem all that scary to her. She admits, there was something definitely off about them but not entirely questionable.

        "I'm Deena Salée...which you know already." She laughed nervously, overwhelmed by meeting her family. It used to be only her and her mom, but now she has an uncle, an aunt, and even a father...wherever he might be.

        Elijah smiled. "Salée it's a French surname and judging by the accent, you are?"

        She nodded proudly. "Oui,"

        "Mon frère a vraiment une attirance pour les françaises, du coup, je ne suis pas vraiment surprise." (My brother definitely has a thing for French women , so I'm not surprised)

        Deena lifted a brow at Rebekah's perfect pronunciation. "Tu peux comprendre le français (You understand French)?" She asked. She was happy to have met someone who spoke her native language.

        "Please, I probably invented it." Rebekah mused as she pulled herself onto the squeaky clean counters. She brushed her fingers through her long locks before flipping it effortlessly over her shoulder. "With all the time we have, acquiring languages is like teaching a baby to walk. It's easy. Après tout, tu est à New Orleans (After all, you’re in New Orleans). French is everywhere."

        "We want you to be comfortable, Deena. If you prefer us to communicate in a language you're most comfortable with using, we will be happy to abide." Elijah reassured.

        Rebekah agreed as well.

        Deena only met these people today and they would go to great lengths to make her comfortable even enough to speak her language. It was all too real to be true. More dreamlike than true. "I appreciate it, but we spoke both English and French at home. I can use the extra practice anyway so English is perfect for me."

        "As you wish,"

        Both vampires flickered to Deena at the sound of her stomach growling. It was the tiniest growl. One she couldn't hear though she felt its soft vibrations beneath where her hand rested. Rebekah jumped off the counters, searching through cabinets and hidden spots when Deena lifted her head from her growling stomach, which growled more. A sound Deena heard this time.

        She slammed the nearest cabinet with a dragged groan. "No matter how many bloody times I check, no human food lies about. You must forgive us, Deena, we weren't expecting guests. Alive at least." Human food? Deena looked to Elijah who was glaring at Rebekah, who paid no mind to either of their stares and faced Deena with her arms crossed. "What do you say, little niece? Shall we eat a restaurant dry?"

        Despite her confusion, Deena gave a nod. "Okay," She eased into a smile.

        "Rebekah," Elijah called pressingly. "A word please in the hallway." Once acquiring his sister's attention, he gestured to the hallway outside of the kitchen.

        Of course, she arrived within seconds using vamp speed. Elijah released a stressful sigh at her rash actions. Luckily, Deena was occupied with an ancient-looking vase in the kitchen to witness it.

        "Did I say something wrong? You know I've never been great with children, but I'm willing to learn. Always."

        "It's not that," Elijah peered into the kitchen to check on the child once more. She sat at the counter waiting for their return.

        Oddly, she felt the vibrations of their voices speaking. The same vibrations she heard from those around her. And sometimes if she focused hard enough, she'd hear sounds she could not see. But she couldn't hear them. It was an on-and-off thing that started a month ago. Possibly a special gift. Like a mutant from X-Men.

        It was so strange to Elijah—to all of them—after living an immortal life with no care for mortals who surrounded them as they all perished in time and often by their hunger, to now having a mortal child of their blood in their care. He couldn't keep his eyes off her and believed it to be a fever dream.

        "I'm afraid the child has no knowledge of this world and the creatures which lie within it. I believe her mother has failed to inform her."

        Rebekah scoffed. "Her mother is a powerful witch, an unforgettable one who has done a lot for the communities in her prime time. How could she not know? You can't just turn off magic whenever you want."

        "Her mother might have her reasons. Though she was respected by the deeds she sow, she was as well a threat to those who despise her coalition outside her community." Elijah explained, placing himself in her shoes. "For now, we should reframe from making Deena think we are otherwise but human, which begins with the choice of your wording sister."

        "Well, how the hell do you suppose we do that? The Quarter is roamed with vampires and witches, including her hybrid father who can't control his impulses. Not to mention tonight's a full moon so every vampire who's not across that river will be here. And if she's anything like her mother, I'm sure there's a magical storm cooking up somewhere in her. If not now."

        Deena's ears perked, the vibrations of Rebekah's voice repeating back 'if not now'. She heard her. As clear as day, as if she was standing right over her shoulder, Deena could hear their conversation. Well, not all. She only heard that part and what's to come after. Anything else before that line, nothing.

        But that wasn't all. The ancient-looking vase she once admired before she took her seat at the counter, rattled. Right before her eyes, a force once used after her mother died. When she mourned her death, every window in the house shattered and papers flew everywhere—the same that's happening now. Against the vase.

        She peered back to where Elijah and Rebekah conversed and continued watching the vase, until her focus was brought back to Elijah's speaking. "I have the means to do some digging. Afterall, she is a Mikaelson born from a hybrid father and w—" Deena jumped to her feet with a yelp as the vase continued to rattle, more violently now. Its rattle kept her from concentrating on their conversation and putting together the mixed pieces.

        "...but for now, we are human. And we are hungry..."

        There was something about the rattle, around this very room, within her, which was calling to her. And when she lifted her hand, not knowing what else to do, or why she should do it—it stopped. The rattle stopped. Astonished, Deena peered down at her hand. Then at the vase. What the hell? Did I do that?

        "Deena, are you ready to go?"

        Deena jumped with a gasp at Elijah's voice scaring her from behind without any warning. Her heart thudded in their ears and intensified as she followed his curious gaze toward the vase...the vase she stopped with her hand. 

        "Y-yeah, I'm ready. Just waiting for you two."

        Rebekah revealed herself from behind Elijah's tall figure. "Great because I know an amazing place that will make you feel right at home." She cheered.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

        𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃’𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐇 were only going to watch Deena eat instead of eating themselves. They acted as if she was filming a mukbang or was fascinated by how much food she digested though all she ordered was red beans and rice with ham hock and lemon water on the side. They brought her to this local spot which served traditional dishes famous in New Orleans. She was overwhelmed by the menu and asked the waiter for recommendations. After having a taste of this delicious delight, Deena could never go back. This was currently her favorite spot.

        A hand soft on Deena's shoulder, "How you liking your food, baby?" It was Lovelie, the owner of the restaurant 'Mama's Joint'. She appeared in her late 40's though with her hair braided individually and pulled back into a half-down style, she looked even younger. But she was sweet and her aura reminded Deena of her mother in a sense.

        "I might become a regular." Deena replied. Judging by the red sauce on her lips, she enjoyed the food a lot more than expected.

        Lovelie smiled. "I'm pleased to see it's a Mikaelson thing. They sure favor this place. Kept me in business for years."

        It was new to be referred to as a Mikaelson though her surname legally remained a Salée. She didn't feel worthy of having their name when they were still strangers to each other. She felt it's a name she must earn and not be given on a silver platter. But stranger or not, it didn't stop Elijah from introducing Deena to Lovelie as his niece.

        "Much more than your delightful cuisines but the culture you put into your work. We always appreciate the city inside and out." Elijah complimented.

        "I'm touched," She sent him a pleased expression before she tapped Deena's shoulder again. "Let me know if you need anything else."

        After she left, Deena took note of their untouched food. Rebekah ordered a drink while Elijah ordered a chocolate fudge cake—all which still remained untouched. The most Elijah had done was poke his fork in the cake.

        "Are you guys not eating?" They followed Deena's furrowed brows to their untouched items.

        "I'm afraid I ate before coming here," Elijah replied, crossing his arms. And he had, but it wasn't human food.

        Deena looked to Rebekah waiting to hear her excuse next. "Me too, but this cake looks tasty," She slid Elijah's cake in front of her and began eating. She ate as if Deena was holding a gun to her head when it was only a simple question, and smiled when feeling Deena's stare. "Just as I remembered...eating this a day ago."

        They both went back to eating. Rebekah actually enjoying the sweet delight though full from an earlier feast.

        But for now we are human and we are hungry. The words played back into Deena's head as she ate her food silently. She inspected them—two perfectly statued humans who appeared human for the most part. They act like humans. They sort of ate like humans. So what did Elijah mean by that statement? Were they not human at all? Or didn't believe they were? They were a bit weird in a sense but Deena brushed it off. It was nice to be around family again.

        Elijah felt the presence of someone near and peered out the window to confirm his suspicion. A fainted smile then curled his lips after narrowing his gaze to the hand fidgeting with the folded napkin.

        Deena went to follow his gaze wanting to know what caught his attention, but her view was clouded by Rebekah's head as she barged the young teenager with questions as if they were in an interview. "Tell us about yourself, Deena. I feel the better we know each other, the more we won't feel like strangers." She continued, shoving a forkful in her mouth. "How about we start with the basics? What's your favorite food? Favorite color? Any boys you fancy? Or girls? Do you recall a moment in life where you felt...magical?"

        Elijah's eyes went big at Rebekah's question and cleared his throat loud enough to put her in her lane, but she ignored Elijah, waiting patiently and eagerly for Deena's response. More so the lather.

        Deena looked between the two. "Um..." She trailed.

        While Deena thought of what to say, Elijah decided to speak in his word while he had the chance. "One question at a time, Rebekah. She is still eating." He told her in a calm, pressing manner.

        She rolled her eyes. "You can't blame me for being excited, but fine. I will wait until she's finished eating. I forget mort—" Caught herself with a smile. "—we tend to eat slow at times. Take your time, dear. Just not all day."

        "It's okay, I'm finished."

        Deena continued to stuff down ham despite her mouth already filled with rice. She was trying to finish her meal in a couple of bites, but her calculations were way off. Much off. The servings here were much bigger than what's given in her country, it would probably take her a day or two to complete. But it didn't stop her from trying.

        Elijah saw she was forcing herself to eat faster and grew worried, as well as the stalking guest across the street before a phonecall occupied his attention. "Please, do take your time and be careful to not choke." He reached for her drink, placing it in front of her and held it there until she took the cup to sip from. "If you wish to finish your meal, we can wait. Believe me, we have all the time in the world to hear the side of your story."

        And Deena did just that. She ate as much as she could hold with the help of lemon water washing down the food. The rest would be scooped in a to-go box and bagged up for a later dinner or midnight snack.

       After a moment of letting everything settle, she sat in her chair with nothing on her brain as she began to think about herself. Of course, she knew all of the things she liked and found passion in, but having to form them into words so that another person could understand her was hard. It reminded her of the first day of school when the teacher chooses a student one-by-one to stand up and share what they've done over the summer including three interesting facts about them. Deena was normally picked last and when she couldn't think of what to say—despite being given a 20+ student headstart—she'd repeat what another had said in different words. But this time, she was the first to be picked.

        "I'm not really a picky eater so I can eat just about anything, but I love cheesecake! It was so bad at one point my mom had hidden the cake and forced me to eat something real. But no matter where she kept it hidden, I always found it. I like oranges too—my favorite fruit. I eat them mostly in the mornings but I like them as a fresh snack throughout the day. And..."

        Deena paused just to make sure she wasn't talking too much or boring either of them to death, but they seemed to not mind her chatter and were genuinely interested in her life.

        Rebekah shared a smile upon hearing the story. "Damn. I guess I'm the only picky eater in the family." She jokingly smacked her lips.

        "Continue on," Elijah prompted.

        "Uh...I like pastel colors, nude is nice too. Better most times. Opposite from my mom who wore every color on the rainbow, she would change her clothes four times a day if it wasn't as crazy or expressive enough. And she would..." Deena stopped herself before she got carried away speaking too much about her mother. Because when she did, she would get emotional, and when she's emotional, she will cry; and when she does cry, it will be hard to stop. And weird things happened when she cried. "Sorry. I was supposed to be talking about me, but I'm here talking about my mom instead. I probably killed the mood." The chuckle Deena let loose was painful, easy to see through, so she stopped and started messing with her unfinished food.

        Elijah handed her a napkin he wasn't fidgeting with the moment a tear shed. "It's quite alright, Deena." He was never great at comforting children, but he was better at it than most of his siblings. So he believed. "I don't mind either story you tell."

        "Speaking of your mother, does she not know you're here? France is very far away, you're a minor, and I'm sure your mother's stapling missing posters across towns."

        Silence.

        Elijah sent his sister a soft glare. She has a big problem with not reading the room and saying whatever was on her mind without thought. "If you prefer we talk about something else we can," Offered Elijah. "Maybe even about ourselves so you don't feel the spotlight is only on you."

        Deena admired her uncle's compassion. She actually would rather talk about them instead of herself because what she was practicing in her head failed to translate properly out her mouth.

         But since they were on the conversation, Deena assumed now to be a decent time to tell everyone the truth. "My mom doesn't know I'm here," She started, fidgeting with the napkin under the table to avoid their contact. "But I didn't run away either. The truth is, she died a month ago; suicide. And when she left, I sort of went through her things—which is where I found a letter about my father and where he lived—then came here on a whim without much planning. I know she didn't want me to come here for whatever reason, but..." She shrugged. "I came anyways and I don't regret it. But if my presence here complicates anything, I don't mind leaving. I can—"

        Rebekah calmed her racy thoughts by grabbing her hand and bringing her mind back to earth. "You're a Mikaelson, love. There is no other place we want you to be but here with us." She reassured her niece, relieved they weren't shipping her back to France so soon.

        When both siblings exchanged a glance, it was clear they shared the same thought surrounding Vanessa's death—flawed. Neither knew Vanessa on a personal level or as well as Klaus did, so maybe it was true and she was fighting some inner demons she couldn't beat. But in a world they live in and the person Vanessa was, suicide was just another easy stamp on cases with evidence beyond the human's capacity. Either it was a case they couldn't understand, or was too lazy to solve and threw it away.

        Elijah stood from his seat, almost jumping in action, and acquired both their abrupt attention. "I will have to hold off on my introduction since a matter has come up." He sent a smile foolish enough to fool Deena, but Rebekah saw past it. "I will make it up to you another time, Deena."

        She frowned a little. "I understand."

        They watched him leave.

        Rebekah then scooted in. "Now that it's just us girls, do tell, do you have a lover back home? A prince charming or princess missing you and waiting for your return?"

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.1k~

warnings: eventual violence, vivid nightmare

a/n: this is the 5th chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). It’s also the last chapter preview posted. If these previews interested you enough to read more into the series, check out the masterlist to bring you where you need to go!!! If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

<- PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST ->

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲 | 𝗔 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝗔 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗕𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀

        “𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌!” Rebekah held open the door to the same room Deena woke up in earlier today. Since it was just her and Rebekah since Elijah had matters to take care of, she decided to give her niece a tour of the large compound that was to be her home. "Was once Kol's, but he no longer needs it. I figure you will put it to good use."

        The brother who died. One of them at least.

        Deena learned her family was a lot bigger than expected. Her father was the middle child out of his six siblings, most who have died of natural causes or complications at a young age, as Rebekah—the youngest—explained. She didn't talk much about their parents, her grandparents, and kept details about the dead short and simple. She did mention her grandparents were from Norway, but born in some town called Mystic Falls before they found comfort here in New Orleans. But as Deena continued to spend her time here, though it hadn't been long, New Orleans was beginning to feel like home too.

        "Wow, this is a lot of white."

        Now that she wasn't panicking over an unexplainable memory and it was confirmed her heart was in fact still beating, Deena could finally appreciate the room. A king-sized bed divided the room equally. Dressed in cream-white sheets and brown-mixed pillows, no evidence of blood which was there earlier. The floors are wooden, a perk for spills and paint. Near the bed stood a sizeable curtain-less window with a built-in couch. There were also two doors located in her room beside the main door; one led to a full-sized bathroom with two sinks and a connected bath and showerhead, and the other led to a walk-in closet.

       This room had no personality.

       And after living the majority of her life with her colorful mom, she wasn't used to classic, bland interior and it was a major turn-off.

       Rebekah glanced out the window with curiosity. "Trust me, I know. My brother hired some uptown designer from Manhattan to refurnish the house after it was occupied by a handsome fella we don't speak of." She continued. "I don't think your father cares much for the interior as long as the house is still standing and there's no signs of the previous owner."

        Nodding, Deena entered the closet, astonished at its size. She never had this much space back home, but she wasn't cramped either. "I didn't bring a lot of clothes to fill this closet. I brought what I could carry and left everything back home, which isn't going to last me but a week or two."

        "Not a problem. Say the word and we'll go on a girls-only shopping spree!"

        Deena would never fight against someone willing to pay for her, but this was different. Her old friends back home who had big families told her once that first impressions were everything. Once you start asking for money and depending on everyone's help and getting too comfortable while doing so, then you gain the title of a "Beggar". And Deena didn't want that kind of label stuck to her name forever.

        "I don't know..." Exiting the closet to Rebekah struggling to pinpoint the drain in her tone, Deena continued. "You guys already done so much for me; you fed me, welcomed me willfully into your home, gave me a roof under your house, and now you're offering to pay for this and that. I don't want you thinking I can't do for myself even when you aren't around. I don't wanna waste your hard-earned money on useless needs."

        Though this room could use a makeover and a few outfits won't hurt.

        With a sigh, Rebekah plopped down on the couch at the window. "Love, you're a child." And so was she. There were the same age, but she seemed to possess an old soul. "These are basic needs you shouldn't have to think too hard about. If I had your mindset each time a man has offered to spoil me, I would have been called an ungrateful bitch. Which I have for other reasons," She was stirring away from her point, losing Deena in the mix but got back to what she was saying. "But to the point, you can be independent and willing to accept help at the same time. You are my niece and will be the only—let me provide for you. Money is not a problem and it will never be. How about we go pick up some things and refurnish this room into your likings? I know you hate it as much as I do. It's giving me a bloody headache."

        Rebekah jumped to her feet excited to venture out in the city and spend a load of money without looking at the price tags. It was also an excuse to hang out with Deena more though she has all eternity to do so. Having a mortal, growing niece meant so much to her and she wanted to be there every step of the way.

        Deena rubbed her neck, filling her lungs with a tiresome yawn. "Can we do it another time? I'm a little tired. Jet-lagged." Deena felt the opposite of tired; she felt energized to the point she could jump off a tall building and somehow survive. She had two days to get over her jet-lag but after eating at Mama's Joint, she needed to sleep it off.

        "Of course, we can. Whenever you want. I will be right outside if you need me."

        Deena headed across the room where her open luggage lies next to the bed. She had already taken off her shoes before entering and bent to her knees to search for something comfortable to wear. Sleeping in jeans made her uncomfortable, so she found a pair of boy boxers and stood to undress—until Rebekah's figure was standing at the door Deena watched her disappear from. She clenched her chest with a gasp. She was silent on her feet like Elijah.

        "Sorry for scaring you," She sent her an apologetic smile. "Just wanted to tell you that if you happen to wake up and find the courtyard scattered with random people, don't be alarmed. They work for your father. Tonight's a...a meeting is being held. They could be here all night possibly, but I rather you stay here until morning. You're a pretty girl and who knows what their intentions are."

         A business meeting all night? Deena decided to not question it and gave a nod. "I might sleep all night through day anyways." She reassured. "I ate too much."

         Rebekah sent one last smile before closing the door behind her. Leaving for real this time.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

        𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, Deena is running in the woods.

        Her chest heaved, her throat cold and dry from the amount of air rushing in her lungs, sweat painting her skin like a beautiful piece made of oil painting, she kept running even when she was close to giving out. It was so dark with little to no light guiding her besides the full moon shining down against her shoulders. She couldn't see anything and had to trust her instincts to guide her out the woods that went on forever like an endless maze.

        She glanced over her shoulder—nothing but darkness.

        She kept running.

        She didn't know who or what she was running from or why she felt nothing but fear, but she kept running and never looked back.

        Deena ran past the tall trees encaving her surroundings and entered the entrance of a large green field of nothing. She took a moment to catch her breath, hovered over her quivering squatted knees as she sucked in a large proportion of air that was failing to calm her hammered chest. Then suddenly, a shadow appeared before her. A familiar face. One that pained her to see.

        Deena stepped forward, cautiously with furrowed brows. "Maman?" It was her. Her mother. Tall, thick tight curls filling her head, wearing the last thing Deena saw her in; a fitted tank top under black overalls with paint dried along the thigh area and splattered dots at her waist. Overwhelmed by suppressing emotions, tears filled her brown eyes. "You're supposed to be dead. How are you here? Why are you here?"

        She went to hug her mother, only to fall through her like a ghost. She plunged hard to the ground with no will to get up.

        Deena stared up at her mother who stared down at her with disappointment. "Why are you here? I told you not to come here yet you came anyway? You never listen to me, Deena. Why don't you ever listen?"

        Deena stared at her hands. "Why can't I touch you?" She questioned, ignoring her mother's clear disappointment. "C'est un rêve (Is this a dream)? Am I dreaming?" 

        "You need to leave this city. It's too dangerous with you being here."

        "But I just got here. I'm not leaving."

        "I'm protecting you, Deena!" She shouted with panic then lifted her gaze to nothing but darkness above. "You don't know what you're doing. What you are. What I've done to ensure your safety. It's only a matter of time before she finds you."

        "Who?" Deena struggled to her feet. "Who's coming for me?"

        Instead of answering Deena's concerns amongst many things, she watched her mother peer around the field as if she was looking for someone or sensed someone was near and reached for Deena's wrist, successfully touching her. Deena's eyes grew wide with shock. She felt warm. Real. She could even feel the tiniest hairs brushing along her arm.

        "How is this possible? You feel so real."

        She continued to drag Deena across the field. "She knows you're here. She has sensed you. Come home now—home where I can protect you. Where you should be."

        Deena was stuck on the fact she could touch her mother that she didn't realize how tight her grip was digging into her skin. "Maman, you're hurting me—Ouch!" She attempted to pull free but her mother didn't bother. Deena tripped over herself, and instead of them stopping or her making sure she was okay, she was being dragged along the grassy field. Her mother has never been this powerful. And the woman she knew would never hurt her. "You're hurting me, get off! I said GET OFF!" A magical force came from her hand, releasing her grip from her mother's.

        The force was too strong and sudden it swept her mother off her feet and Deena just a few feet away. She didn't realize what she did until it happened. Her hand clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. Maman, I—"

        However, her mother wasn't phased by her magical powers. She was looking past Deena with a fearful look on her brown face before she stumbled back.

        Deena was unable to see what her mother saw before a cold hand gripped her neck, suffocating her of oxygen she was already lacking. It was a person in a black cloak. All she saw was blackness when looking for a face. When the figure motioned their hand through the air, blood leaked from a scratch burning across her cheek and Deena gritted her teeth to conceal its pain.

        She couldn't fight them. They were a lot stronger than her. Even her mother failed to fight them off and disappeared after chanting words said by the hooded individual. They then lashed out their tongue, licking Deena's sweat-stained skin, tasting her blood. And the magic that lurks within.

        They hummed, satisfied by what they discovered. "There is power in your blood, child. Such power I seek." A woman's voice spoke through darkness. A thick Nordic accent coated her tongue. Deena squirmed under her hold, unable to escape from, but her breathing grew heavy and pain signals tracked all over her body. The dark head lifted their gaze to the full moon rising at its peak, and though her expression was blacked-out, Deena felt her frown. "But it seems another force of nature calls onto you. We shall meet again. Even if I must stop nature at its course, we will."

        Deena was released.

        She woke up with a terrifying scream scratching up her throat in a puddle of sweat. Red eyes that were once dark brown ceased beneath the shadows, and her ears were filled with the loud cracking of her bones invading her peaceful nature.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE