◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: ❛ fine jewelry ❜ ◢

✧

         ON SATURDAYS, WHEN MAGNUS WAS TAKING HIS MID-DAY NAP, MARISOL WOULD GO TO THE MARKET TO STOCK UP ON FOOD AND GLANCE LONGINGLY AT THE JEWELRY. With only her to bring home money, and with the displeasure of everyone to have a woman working for them, there wasn't a lot of coins to pay for such niceties. She had not bought a fine necklace of silver or ring to fit on her finger since she was a young girl with magic flowing through her veins, when they were gifts from her betrothed and she dressed everyday with a locket around her neck.

The same locket still stayed draped across her collarbone, dangling in between her breasts, but it was not shiny but dull and unkempt since she had not the time to take the proper care of it. Her time was always filled with caring for her precious nephew and protecting him from the harm of the world, she had no time for herself or her whims. Not until he slept, but even then she had no tools to care for her locket and nowhere else to go during the dark night.

Yet still, as she paid with most of her money for food to keep her and Magnus alive, her eyes couldn't help but wander to the glimmering jewelry, laughing at her because she could not have it herself. She took the bag full of her food and went over to the stand where the jewelry mocked her, her hand going to touch the silver necklace and looking with eyes of wonder.

It was utterly breathtaking and in her state of withdrawal, with no new fine pieces in her collection in years, she wanted to grasp it in her hand and run. Still, she refrained because if she did she would never be allowed back at the market. She refrained because there was no way she would be able to escape without being caught. So she admired it and longed for it, longed for it around her neck, longed for her to be hers, but did nothing to make those dreams a reality.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice startled her. Marisol let out a gasp and sharply drew back her hand, heart racing as she looked to see a handsome man standing beside her, looking at her with his eyes going between the necklace and back to her.

Marisol swallowed and calmed herself, sending him a smile. She looked back at the necklace and tried not to show how much she wanted it. "Yes, it is," she agreed.

"Why not buy it?" he asked her, reaching up to touch the necklace himself, bringing it into his hand to inspect it closer.

At the question, she couldn't help but blush. It was no secret from the way she dressed that she belonged to the lowest class and, judging by this man's outfit, he was the polar opposite of her. She turned away from him and the necklace. "Sadly, I must admit that I do not have the funds for such a beauty."

The man hummed, grabbing the necklace off of the hook and going to the man who owned the stall. Marisol blinked in surprise in the action, watching as the stranger paid for the necklace before coming back to her with an easy smile. "Here," he handed the newly bought jewel to her, "It's yours."

"Sir, thank you," she breathed out, looking at the jewelry she had lusted over for so long which was finally hers. Then she looked up at him, "But I cannot accept this."

"Of course you can," he said easily, "You wanted it and I have an excess of funds that can be used through numerous lifetimes. It's just a gift."

"Nicest gift I've ever been given," Marisol told him, deciding that this necklace was much better than the locket around her neck, even if it was the last piece from her girlhood. The dresses had long been thrown out and the money which she had taken from her home was now all used and new, the only thing remaining was the locket and Magnus – but he wasn't truly something from home.

Besides, the locket was a gift from her old betrothed – a man she never loved – but this shining necklace was from a handsome man who seemed interested in her despite their differing appearances.

She cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away from the necklace and back to him. "I suppose I should tell you my name now. Marisol Bigora," she introduced herself, feeling as though it was only right after the gift he had given her.

He smiled, "Elijah."

Unable to help herself, she raised an eyebrow. "Just Elijah?" she inquired, and he chuckled.

"For now, I suppose," he conceded. A man many feet away from them called for Elijah and he sighed, looking back at the one who called his name and signaling for anther moment. Marisol felt some disappointment inside her that their meeting would be cut short. "Well, Marisol Bigora, may we meet again."

He took her right hand which held the locket and kissed it, sending her a wink before walking away. She tried to say something but the words got caught in her throat. She couldn't help but watch him feel, feeling utterly entranced by him now, and sad that even though he wished to see her again, it would never happen.

She was a peasant, the lowest class who couldn't afford any niceties and he was from the highest class, who had money to last lifetime after lifetime. They would never meet again. Still, she held onto the locket and knew that she would never forget this moment, walking back to her place where Magnus was surely waiting for her.

When she stepped inside, she could hear him wailing and something hitting the wall, signaling to her that his magic was flaring up again. It was always worst when she left him and she prayed for Pearl who had to endure the tantrums. She sighed to herself before placing down the bag full of food and the locket onto a table before going into his room.

"My beautiful Magus," she smiled brightly at him, watching as he stopped crying and looked at her confused before clapping his hands together and laughing. She scooped him up in her arms and rained down kisses onto his cheeks. "My perfect warlock."

She brought him into the main room and placed him on the ground, watching as he walked towards the parchment to take paint and splatter it everywhere – not just the canvas. Even though she knew it would be a mess for her to clean up, she smiled fondly down upon him, wishing that Ophelia was there to see her son. Her adorable little boy, with such an abundance of magic that bounced off the walls constantly. Ophelia would be perfect; she could be able to subdue him and teach him whereas Marisol had no magic flowing through her veins anymore.

She put away the food into cabinets before staring at the necklace and holding the locket around her neck. She wanted to immediately transfer the new piece of jewelry to her neck but at the same time, it would mean leaving the locket behind where eventually years would pass and she would forget that it would ever exist.

Steadily, though, Marisol unclasped the locket and placed on the new necklace, looking down to see how it looked. She couldn't keep holding onto the past. Ophelia was never going to see Magnus again, she would never embrace her mother or Circe, and there was no point holding onto that possibility. She had to truly be in the moment – be in England – with Magnus and Katerina, with the locket, not wishing that she could go back to the past.

The necklace looked nice against her skin anyway.

✧

IN THE MORNING, A few days after she met Elijah, she opened her door to go to work and earn payment to keep her and Magnus alive, noticing a box on the ground with a note on top. Frowning, Marisol bent down to grab the letter. Coming back up as her eyes swept across the words.

You have been cordially
invited to the Mikaelson
ball this Friday night at nine.

Her frown grew deeper as she read the words. She had no contact with any of the Mikaelson brothers – though, truthfully, she only knew of the one Katerina spoke of; Niklaus, who seemed quite fond of her from what the girl had told her. She was sure that Katerina never mentioned her either, even if the girl always made sure to say that she wished Marisol was there to experience the balls when she explained them in full detail.

While she loved Katerina dearly, this was her greatest friend after all, she knew that the girl could be quite conceited at times so it made no sense that she would find herself invited to such an event.

Then, she bent down again to pick up the box, bringing it inside her house and placing it on the table and opening it. She couldn't help the gasp that came out of her as she saw a brilliant dark purple gown, with such detail and rich color she knew that she would never be able to able this with a million paychecks.

She didn't understand why this appeared or how it had gotten to her. She didn't know why she was invited or why however gave her this invitation would also send her a dress. It made no sense and part of her wanted to forget about the ball and the dress and not attend. She was utterly clueless as to who would want her there and it would be better not to attend – she had to stay with Magnus, after all – but the other part urged her to go, just this once. Do something for herself, to single and make connections and find someone who would be willing to take her and Magnus in.

Then she wouldn't have to worry about him anymore because they would alright.

So she made up her mind; when the time came on Friday, Marisol would dress herself in the gown and hold herself as such nobility as the Mikaelson brothers and she would find a better life for her and Magnus. It's what Ophelia would want.

And when Friday came, she did as she promised herself she would, looking in the mirror to see herself, finding herself uncomfortable in the gown. It reminded her of the last night she spent with her family, in her village, her last night as a witch. Dressing up for the ball to see her betrothed who flirted with another woman and, to spite him, flirted with the merchant who led to her downfall.

She looked nicer than she had since leaving the village, more put together and proper than a peasant would. The necklace shined brightly on her neck and she smiled at its presence. Before leaving for the night, she went into Magnus' room to ensure that he was still sleeping soundly, hoping that he would not wake during the night and realize she had left. He looked peaceful, something which had escaped Marisol since she had become a monster.

Leaving her house, she let out a sigh before walking to the ball. It was a beautiful scene, the elegant mansion shining before her, already able to catch the music which played inside. Nerves ran through her body, knowing that she would be an outsider even if no one would be able to guess from her appearance.

When she reached the inside of the house, having shown a guard her invitation which they took, she went breathless at the scene. All of the candles lit, the band playing, the dancing...it was breathtaking and she never wanted to look away.

As a waiter came by with wine, she took a glass and began to sip on it. It had been so long since she had last had a drip of wine on her tongue, the taste flowing down her throat. And at the sight of the table full of beautifully crafted delectable treats, her mouth watered. It had been even longer since she had last tasted something so rich, something that wasn't plain and stale.

On her journey over there, not paying attention to anything else happening in, a voice startled her. "The dress compliments you well," she let out a gasp, looking to see Elijah smiling at her, amused by her reaction to him.

"Elijah," she managed to get out before realizing what he had said and frowned, "You sent me the dress?"

"And the invitation," he added, nodding at her question, "After all, it is my ball. Well, I suppose Niklaus also has credit for it."

Her head tilted. "You're Elijah Mikaelson...God, I should've figured it out earlier."

"It's quite alright. I mean, I did not disclose to you my last name when we first met as you did to me," he assured her, "But do you like the dress?"

"Do I like the dress?" Marisol repeated the question, "Of course I like the dress. It's magnificent and the detail...it's wonderful. Thank you, Elijah, but why did you give it to me? I'm sure that there's plenty of other women with much more money than me who you could've invited."

Elijah laughed and did not deny her statement. "You're correct, but who else would be truly thankful for my gifts? And who could ever been so beautiful in such a dress?"

She blushed at the compliment. "Well, thank you again," she said, unused to the compliments he rained upon her, "But you didn't have to buy me it – or the necklace."

As she said the word, she saw him look down to her neck, eyes brightening at the sight of the glimmering piece of jewelry. "I see that you're wearing it," he happily noted, pride shining through his eyes.

"Of course. It's the nicest thing I own – besides the gown now," she mentioned, feeling herself flush as she again brought up the financial difference between them.

"Well, I hope to change that," Elijah said and she blinked, startled by the declaration. Before she could say anything, note the fact that this was only their second meeting and surely he couldn't rain more gifts upon when she only knew his name, he brought out his hand. "Would you like to dance with me, Marisol?"

It had been so long since she last danced with a partner. So long since she had been in this same scene, the moonlight glittering upon her as she listened to the live music and danced to her hearts content. Not since the night she became a monster, for after that she locked away the music and the dancing, not attending any ball and only humming old tunes to herself as she lifted Magnus up to sway with him. He quite liked when she did that.

It was no wonder she was tempted with the offer, and no one could blame her when she took his hand and smiled. "It would be my pleasure," she had told him, walking towards the middle of the floor, locking eyes with him, and dancing like she hadn't in years.