❝And that's when she put her book down. And looked at me. And said it: "Life isn't fair, Bill. we tell our children that it is, but it's a terrible thing to do. It's not only a lie, it's a cruel lie. Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it's never going to be.❞
— William Goldman (The Princess Bride)

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

Romania, 1491

"The Ghostess," Niklaus spoke, leaning back in his wooden chair with a cup of wine in his hand, "is supposedly here."

Elijah leaned against the table, looking at the maps and notes his brother had scrawled. The clean script that swirled across the pages. "So we've heard, Niklaus."

The bastard sighed, running his hand through his long hair as he placed his cup down. The wine swished dangerously and a droplet flew out, landing on the desk. "She could just be a myth. We've been hearing about her since we turned and that . . . that is impossible. Mother made vampyrs, they didn't exist before us."

Elijah agreed, sitting down in his own seat. "I'm aware, brother. Yet, the bodies and gore say that she exists. She could be something else." He tilted his head, studying Klaus who looked angry. He always looked angry when they spoke of the famed murderer that seemed at least as old as them.

It was impossible, though.

"There's nothing else. Witches, vampyrs, dopplegangers, and werewolves. That is the list. That is what exists." Klaus threw his hands up, staring up at the ceiling of the manor they had taken over. "How have we never ran into her?"

Elijah paused and stared at the wall, his eyebrows knitted together. "There may be more than that list, we may just not know it yet. Maybe we have ran into her. Maybe we didn't realize?"

Klaus shook his head, standing up to examine his notes, his maps. There were dots on the map for all the places she had been sighted and stars for all the places she had killed. Lots of dots and stars overlapped.

"I want to meet this immortal murderess. I want to meet the one who's name brings fear to one's eyes." Klaus looked at Elijah, his lip curling slightly as he barked the next words, "And I want to either kill her or," he chuckled vaguely, "court her. She is impressive, dangerous, and a threat to our family."

Elijah stayed silent. He'd heard this talk so many times over the years. The Ghostess was a psychopath the likes of Klaus Mikaelson. She was vicious, brutal, and incredibly deadly. Towns she visited rarely remained standing; Elijah had seen the bodies himself.

"She must be eradicated or controlled." 

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

Roxanne lounged on a chaise in the Salvatore boarding house, her gray eyes watching the two vampires who stared at her. They had invited her over after seeing the spat she'd had with the Mikaelson boys during lunch.

Damon was tall and fit, with raven black hair and piercing blue eyes. He didn't look Italian, he was pale and very American. Stefan, on the other hand, showed more of his heritage. His skin was a soft tan and he had hazel eyes and perfectly coiffed, dirty blonde hair.

They were attractive, but too young for Roxanne's taste. Baby vampires in comparison to the Mikaelsons.

She examined her nails, painted a baby blue to contrast the usually dark colors she wore. She studied them for cracks or chips, her long legs crossed over the arm of the chaise.

Feeling Damon's eyes on her, Roxanne sighed and looked up at him. "You invite a girl over and don't even have the manners to speak. Talk, Salvatores." She stretched across the couch, her gray tanktop lifting to reveal a sliver of skin above her shorts.

"You've heard of us?" Damon queried, his arrogance spilled off him in waves. He moved towards her, striding with practiced ease. His voice was light and casual, but eager. She slowly stood, walking towards the bar on the other side of the room to pour herself a drink.

"Oh, yes, I know all about you two, the dramatics, the flair, your little fight with the Mikaelsons. I've heard about it all, and I dare say I am impressed," she called, turning and sipping her bourbon. Both of them watched her as she sashayed up to Damon, resting her hand on his chest. Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him and flirted shamelessly. "Very impressed," she winked. 

"We know you know about vampires, and probably all the other supernatural creatures." Stefan barged into the conversation, Roxanne had been taking advantage of the way Damon was reacting to her so his younger brother needed to put it back on track. She turned, looking over at him with a smile.

"Oh? You know some things? Well, I know some things too." She twisted on her heel and walked back across the room towards the bar to refill her glass. "I know Damon is a slight alcoholic. I know you, Stefan, are a bit of a bloodaholic, is that the term? Or would you prefer Ripper of Monterey?" She scoffed, feeling his scowl on her back. "I know you both used to love the same girl, Katherine Pierce? I also know that you both love the same girl now, Elena Gilbert, Katarina's doppelganger. " She sipped her alcohol, facing Stefan with innocent, bright eyes. "How funny, falling in love twice with the same face. Different personalities, I'm sure." She winked. "I know about Elena, Jeremy, Alaric. I know things just like you, and I probably know a bit more."

Damon snorted, rolling his eyes. "What do you want?"

Roxanne sighed, resting against the counter and pursed her lips. "Genuinely? I want to be left alone. I have my reasons for being here. Stay out of my hair, I'll stay out of yours. Pinky promise," she held out her pinky sarcastically and shook it. "I'll be gone soon, anyway. I just have some things to get done."

"What types of things?" Stefan asked, studying her cautiously.

She rolled her eyes and began to walk towards the door. "Personal things, boy. Toodles."

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

The stunning blonde sat in the town square, sipping her chai and quietly watching the passerby when a familiar Mikaelson walked up. Rebekah was dressed in designer clothes and her hair was braided. She walked right up to Roxanne, placed her shopping bags on the ground and settled onto the bench next to her.

"You must be the girl my brothers are obsessing over right now," Rebekah hummed, looking at her curiously. "The one who knows too many things and has a familiar tattoo."

Roxanne smiled vaguely, studying her old friend. "Indeed. You must be Rebekah. I've heard a lot about you, didn't realize how hot you were, though," she flirted, leaning back and smiling at the youngest Mikaelson. Her gaze was soft, running lazily up and down the form of the ancient vampire. 

Rebekah laughed, rolling her blue eyes. "What a charmer. No wonder my brothers are obsessed with you."

Shrugging, the older of the two looked out at the park. "What can I do for you?" Her words were quick and curious, yet unimportant. She seemed to not truly care as to why the Original had graced her presence, or why the Mikaelson brothers were 'obsessing' over her. 

"My brother intends to kill you," Rebekah remarked, staring out at the square. At the people that shopped and walked and talked. At the families who picnicked. At the gentle, quiet life of Mystic Falls. The idyllic life. "I wanted to meet you before your life ended." 

A woman walked past, holding her son's hand. She had bright shopping bags slung over her arm, and she was dressed in a yellow sundress. 

Roxanne chuckled, leaning back on the bench. "Kind of you. Klaus has always been kill first, ask questions later, huh?" Her eyes followed the woman down the street before moving to another family who were spreading a blanket, getting ready for a familial picnic. Her eyes darted away from them to other humans. She was  quick and organized; her gray gaze examining for potential enemies. 

Rebekah hummed in agreement and cast a sideways glance at Roxanne. "You seem awfully familiar with my family. Why's that?" Her hands rested in her lap and she remained quiet and poised. But, Roxanne knew that a killer hid under that innocent face.

"I've heard the stories. I'm not interested in harming any of you," sighing, the taller blonde looked up at the soft, blue sky. The clouds that sparsely dotted it. "He feels like he knows me, right?"

Rebekah turned fully to face the girl. "How do you know that?"

Shrugging and pulling her knees to her chin, Roxanne let out a long, long sigh. "I met him once. Long ago. He won't remember. It was in a coffee shop, and he was a customer." Roxanne looked at Rebekah, meeting her confused gaze. "There's a storm coming, depending on his choices. On what he does now that he's a hybrid. How far he'll go to make his army. The wrong choice will lead to his downfall."

"Is that a threat?" Rebekah hissed, her eyes pinned on Roxanne.

The older one shook her head and looked out at the square again. "No. It's a sad truth, and one I don't want to happen. I'm only here to protect him."

Rebekah frowned, confusion lacing her face. She had softened considerably. "What storm?"

Roxanne blinked and looked at Rebekah, something darkened her gaze. Something cast shadows on her face and made her appear very frightening for just a moment. Perhaps frightening wasn't the correct word, perhaps she was more frightened. Scared. Fear flashing across her beautiful features.

"The Ghostess."

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

Niklaus strolled out to the garden in hopes of having a peaceful afternoon to just draw. He paused as a familiar chaise lounge, he swore belonged to the Salvatores, sat near the front of the garden with a familiar blonde languished on it in a bikini. She was on her stomach reading a magazine and sunbathing. She was completely still, her fingers casually flipped through the pages.

The Hybrid's entire body stiffened in shock as he stared at her. She was packed with muscle, but not like Sage, Finn's old lover, was. She was lean and toned, hinting at the muscle that was definitely there. They flexed as she moved her arm to flip another page.

He turned away, attempting to fight the heat rising to his cheeks just as her voice drifted to his ears. She hadn't even looked up from her magazine to know he was there. "Take a picture, Mr. Mikaelson, it'll last longer." She was casual and beautiful and he tried not to stare outright as he approached.

Niklaus chuckled at her words, facing the blonde who was flipping her body to tan her stomach. He paused for the second time in as many minutes when he caught sight of her tattoo on her left shoulder. It still bothered him, he was confused and a little concerned by its familiarity.

"Your tattoo, it's quite peculiar," the hybrid spoke for the first time since exiting his large mansion. He chose his words casually, trying to keep his eyes on hers, instead of looking at the dark ink.

Roxanne lifted her body and twisted her head to inspect it. "Yeah, I've only met one other person with this tattoo in my life, he got it at the same time as me," her smile was genuine and small, she seemed sad before it was erased with her usual cold exterior.

Niklaus decided it was better to show the girl than explain. He tugged down his henley, stretching the fabric to show off the tattoo that stretched from his arm to his clavicle. Her gaze followed his movements boredly before focusing on the tattoo he had. She didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"I've never met another person with this, for I was the one that designed it," Niklaus spoke softly as he approached her, letting go of his shirt. "Who chose the tattoo between you two?" He was suspicious, but remained calm. It was impossible she had that tattoo. Unless. . . unless she got it with him. But that wasn't possible, either; he would've remembered her being there.

Roxanne pushed her body into more of a sitting position, letting him have room to sit on the chaise lounge. He sat at her feet, which she immediately placed on his lap like he wasn't a thousand year immortal hybrid who had killed thousands.

"He did, he was talking all about how it would be symbolizing us leaving the flock aka our different families, and would show how we would love each other forever. Even if we were separated, the tattoo would draw us together, like a string linking us. The witch who gave it to us told us that as well." Roxanne shrugged and smirked at the Original. "What about you?"

"I got it from a witch, too, about fifty years ago. So, not the same witch, love."

"Who says I didn't get mine fifty years ago?" she teased, her blue eyes watching him playfully. Her lips quirked up, dark lashes shading her eyes from the sun which beat down on both of them.

Niklaus rose a brow and studied her, considering her words and putting them away for later. "What happened to this man?"

"His past caught up to him and he left me, I saw him once or twice after that, so the tattoo string isn't complete bullshit." She shrugged easily and shook out her hair before tying it into a messy knot at the base of her neck.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He rested his sketchbook on her legs and the two sat there, drawing and reading. He was quiet for a very long time before something occurred to him. "What exactly are you doing in our garden, love?"

Roxanne's cunning smile took hold on her pretty face, her lips peeling back to reveal those pearly whites. It looked almost like a snarl, like she was baring her teeth rather than smiling.

"Who says I'm here, Niklaus?"

Niklaus woke with a gasp, he rested his hand against his chest and stared at the sheets tangled around his legs. His obsession had gotten so far he was dreaming about this girl.

Edited

May 27th, 2020

Rewritten

March 21st, 2023