◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: ❛ deep affection ❜ ◢

✧

MARISOL MISSED HOME. It was almost strange to think of the village she came from at home since she never felt like she belonged there when she was a resident. She felt out of place, like she belonged somewhere else, and the place wasn't hers. She had her family, and that usually made a home, but it only felt like a prison with her mother forcing her into marriage not caring about her opinion. But, of course, women were meant to be seen and not heard.

         (A voice whispered softly in her mind that Elijah always cared about her opinion. He didn't want to just see her; he wanted to hear her, too.)

         She felt the pressure of being a perfect daughter, a perfect fiancée, and a perfect woman. She had to do everything her mother told her, she had to be pure and good for marriage. She had to be right for her future husband, not engaging with any other man which would jeopardize her reputation and lend her the abhorred title of a scarlet woman. She had to be pure and think of others, be matronly, and place herself last. Her husband, her children, her duty to the community all before she could ever think of herself.

         She was only a tool and tools didn't matter. Her service to her family, her service to the balance of good and evil and nature...that was all that mattered about her and without that, she was nothing.

         Her mother would think of her as nothing now. No husband, no magic, raising a child alone even if it wasn't hers and she did not commit that particular sinful act. She was nothing because she was not being courted (all because of her will – oh, the horror), she had no husband, no children, and no duty to the balance. She was a monster, and a monster alone.

         Yet, she longed to go back there. She longed to be a witch again, with that life-sustaining magic running through her veins and drumming her heart, stringing through her blood stream and pooling out in service to balance. Something bigger than herself because it was never about her. No one cared about the witch, only the witch's deeds.

         She longed to be apart of a world where she didn't have to decide and didn't have to fight feelings. Because in a marriage with Nathan, there would be no love, but there would also be no conflicted heart with Elijah. She almost felt the ease of letting someone else decide everything for her and being chained in that small little town she never belonged in. Because if she was there, she wouldn't have Elijah and Katerina forcing her to into something only her heart wanted, going against her mind.

         There would be no conflict if she had stayed and wasn't a monster. She wouldn't be nothing, and she would still have her sisters. Or maybe just Circe, who hadn't been ridden with a child in her womb. It haunted her, all the possibilities of what could have happened to Ophelia if she had not taken Magnus and allowed her to return to the life they once had.

         Would Ophelia still have run away, raising Magnus herself? Would she have poisoned the child in her stomach with magic so that no one would find out? Would she have stayed and been caught then forced out of town? Or have her child ripped away from her?

         Marisol didn't know, and it was those haunting possibilities that made her realize this was all fate and she was in the right place. Because if she wasn't a monster, Ophelia would've been, and she would rather be the most vile creature before allowing her sister to be called a scarlet woman and shunned.

         This was where she was meant to be, even if there was Elijah and she was conflicted. Even if she wanted to give up and return and not have to make any decisions. She had to think of Magnus, think of him and his little face, the blonde curls that coated his forehead. The bright smile he gave her, the times he called her mama before she corrected him with Aunt Marisol because she would not replace Ophelia; she would remember and honor Ophelia.

         Magnus needed her to stay in control, Magnus needed her to not go back and not think these thoughts. Magnus needed her to keep to herself, so she did and she would continue to do so. Her whole life was dedicated to her nephew and, at the end of the day, she wouldn't have it any other way. All the hardships she went through was for him and for her sister to have a normal life in that small town she never belonged in. And she would make the same decision time and time again even if she had the chance to change it.

         And Magnus was why she held herself closer to protect from the cold as she walked back home to him after a long day of working. She walked the same path, one foot in front of the other, closer to the warmth of her house with the light of her life. When she heard footsteps behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck began to shoot up and she hesitated to look back before finally forcing herself and having her shoulders relax immediately.

         "Niklaus," she greeted the following figure, "You've frightened me."

         The blond Mikaelson smiled at her gently, though there was a cutting look in her eyes – a sharpness to them that placed her on edge, so unlike the friendliness she felt whenever she looked into Elijah's same brown ones. "My apologies, Marisol, that was not my intention," he told her, "I just wished to speak with you, and Katerina told me which way you come home. I thought this would be better than showing up at your door unannounced."

         Marisol smiled at her him and forced her mind to relax herself even more because Niklaus was a friend, not a predator. "Well, you're right about that," she nodded in confirmation, "I...well, I'm not a fan of unannounced guests, I admit."

         Niklaus walked to her side and she began to walk again back to Magnus, "I suppose that I want to talk about Elijah."

         She couldn't stop herself from tensing. "Look, Niklaus, Elijah knows my intentions with him. He is...a dear friend of mine and I hold the deepest affections for him, but there will not be any courtship between us. I hope you understand and do not think of me any differently."

         "I know, and I don't mind," Niklaus nodded, "He's told us all this much. We're all very aware of your displeasure with the thought of being courted. Still, you know Elijah can't help but want. You are, if I can be honest with you, quite ravishing."

         "Don't let Katerina hear you say that," Marisol teased him, her cheeks going red at the compliment, "Now, I hope that Elijah isn't the only reason you came to find me."

         Niklaus shook his head. "No, I suppose I have a question for you," he started off, looking at her so intently she felt like he was analyzing you, "You're a werewolf, aren't you?"

         The shock was clear on her face, as her mouth went slightly agape and she froze. "How – How do you know?" she asked, her voice low, fear peaking inside her, "Does Elijah...?"

         "No, I don't believe that my brother has figured it out yet, but a wolf knows another when he sees one," he told her and she felt more surprise course through her.

         She blinked. "You're a werewolf too?"

         "I used to be," he admitted after thinking it over for a moment and her eyebrows furrowed, "Before I was cursed."

         "Like the story you told me, when I came to dinner," Marisol paralleled, and he nodded.

         "Exactly. The story isn't completely accurate, I will admit, but I supposes it gets the point across enough," Niklaus told her and she nodded, believing every word that came from his mouth, "When I met you, I knew instantly, which is why I told you that story."

         "But your siblings don't know about me, do they? Elijah doesn't know that I'm...that I'm a monster?" she asked, her voice spitting out the vile word at the end.

         He looked away and Marisol felt guilt seep inside her, remembering that he had also been infected and was just as monstrous as she. "Niklaus, I didn't mean it like that. I just – well, I am a monster," she admitted, "You're cursed and that, well, you don't have to turn every month, but I do. I can't even remember the people I've killed or the amount, I have no control. All I remember is the original kill, and even then it was a haze."

         "Was it someone in your family?" Niklaus asked her and she frowned at him, "The person you killed. Or your fiancé. That's probably too personal, I shouldn't have asked."

         "No," Marisol told him quickly, shaking her head, "It was, um, it was just some traveling merchant. It was at a party and he was interested in me and I was interested in getting back at my flirting fiancée who was off wooing another woman, so I entertained the merchant. And then we were alone and suddenly...he was dead and I was a creature of the night."

         There was a silence between them for a moment. "So you ran away," Niklaus concluded the end of the story.

         Marisol nodded. "It wasn't like I could stay now that I was a werewolf. I had to leave, and I don't regret it. Not for a single moment."

         "You speak of your wolf as a monster...do you think of me monstrous because I want mine back?" Niklaus asked her, peering into her eyes, "Because I want to break my curse so badly, and I'm close to it, too."

         Marisol thought about it for a moment, not wanting to say anything that would outrage him even though she couldn't think of a single reason someone would willingly become a werewolf again. "My wolf is tied to my greatest shame, my biggest regret. I abhor my werewolf side, but I know of other werewolves who embrace the wolf. I don't think you're monstrous for wanting to embrace a part of you, even if I cannot understand it."

         "So you would help me if I asked to break my curse?" Niklaus asked her, and it was such a loaded question because of course she wanted to do anything for a friend and ally, which Niklaus was becoming, but this could endanger Magnus and nothing she did could ever endanger him.

         "Well, I don't know what I could do," Marisol admitted to him, "I'm definitely more human than wolf except on the full moon so it's not like I can do much for you."

         "Oh, I think you could be very useful. Marisol, I don't think you realize what greatest could fall before you if you would only go after it," Niklaus told her, looking ahead of them where the building in which she resided in stayed, "Goodnight, Marisol."

         As he attempted to walk away, she grabbed his arm and made him turn back. "You won't tell Elijah about my wolf, will you?" she asked him with wide eyes.

         "You truly are ashamed of it, aren't you?" Niklaus looked her up and down, a tone of disbelief.

         Her cheeks turned red at his almost disappointment in her shame, but she still nodded. "I care for him, I do, but I don't want him to know about this."

         "It won't drive him away," Niklaus said, "And it isn't as if you want to court him."

         She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut for a second but still holding her ground. "Don't tell him my secret. This is for me to say to him," she pleaded with him.

         He continued to asses her before nodding. "Alright, as long as you don't tell Katerina that I have no intention on marrying her," he smirked before breaking her grip on him and walking away.

         Marisol stayed there, stuck to them, looking at him in shock. As long as you don't tell Katerina that I have no intention on marrying her. Katerina would be crushed, she had dreamed of becoming Katerina Mikaelson and living the life with jewels and gold and no more hardships, but Niklaus only thought of her as a plaything apparently.

         If she were a better friend, Marisol would have run to Katerina immediately to tell her and be honest, be her backbone as the Petrova girl had done to her, but Marisol didn't. instead, she went back to her own home and paid Pearl for her babysitting before getting Magnus ready for bed, trying not to let the guilt eat her as she felt asleep.