◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ❛ close to kindness ❜ ◢

✧

          NOT ONE TO STAY HOME, MARISOL FOUND HERSELF AT ANOTHER WITCH SHOP THAT DAY IN THE COMPANY OF AMELIA. She felt like she had been neglecting her friend since she, for lack of a better word, reconnected with Klaus and was brought into something she wanted no part of. But, in her defense, life had been insane since Klaus rushed back into her life and grabbed her by the neck, offering a deal and forcing her to betray her friend.

First, there was the whole betraying her best friend thing. She didn't use best friend in the sense that they told each other everything and spent all their time together, or that she trusted Marcel than any other person. The only person she truly trusted was Magnus, but that was because he knew everything about her and had been a part of her life since she was a teenager and he a newborn. But, Marcel was in her best friend in the sense that they trusted each other enough, told each other enough, and understood each other enough.

Second, she was dealing with a pregnant werewolf who needed someone who cared for her since her only other option before Rebekah came to town was Klaus. Technically, she knew that Elijah was there at some point, and connected with her first, but Elijah was long since daggered and given to Davina, so he was out of the playing field. And when she moved into that old governor's house with Klaus and Hayley, she was the only one who cared for Hayley in a way that looked like caring.

She liked to think that some part of Klaus cared for Hayley and the child, and there was there was paternal instinct within him, but he had yet to show it to the outside world. That didn't mean it didn't exist, and she wasn't doubtful of it, but at the same time she was. Klaus seemed like he didn't care for her or the child in the slightest, so Marisol took up that role and let herself be the person Hayley could lean on. She wished she had that when Ophelia left and she was alone with Magnus.

And third, there were a lot of plots she was now involved that took up a lot of her time. She used to be free, moving around and doing whatever she wanted because she didn't have anything restricting her. She had no job that demanded her time, taking up her schedule for her to work around, so she had been free. But scheming took up time, because there were a lot of parts to it, so she didn't exactly have that free schedule anymore and time to hang out with Amelia while she worked like usual.

Some part of her felt bad, of course. Amelia was her friend and that meant they had to hang out to maintain that, and Amelia was such a nice girl. (Technically, she was twenty-five and not a girl, but everyone in a normal lifespan was young to her now.) But, she had left many friends before when it was time to leave town, so ignoring her friend for a few days/weeks wasn't that big of deal once put in perspective.

Still, since she had a few hours to kill before the party and didn't have to get ready just yet, she figured that she could see Amelia for a little bit. She still felt some ties to the girl, unlike ones she had severed before, and while she was here and able to nurture a relationship between them, she would. Yes, she had left people, but she had not been cold to them while she was in town, so why would she do that to Amelia?

"Mars," Amelia smiled when she walked into the shop, and Marisol smiled back at her easily. It felt so easy with Amelia, because her lying about herself didn't seem so bad or so secretive, she truly just felt like Mars the human with Amelia like she didn't with Marcel or anyone else. "I haven't see you in a while, though something happened."

"You know Marcel wouldn't let that happen," Marisol was quick to assure her, because she was one of Marcel's chosen few for humans who were completely off limits to vampires. Well, for feeding purposes anyway, but Diego still seemed to want to get into her pants.

Amelia hummed, displeased, at the mention of her vampire friend. It was why she usually left talk about her acquaintanceship with the vampires to a minimum when she was with Amelia or any other witch, but it had slipped out. "I still don't see why you're friends with him, knowing everything he does," Amelia told her disapprovingly.

Maybe, for her perspective, it seemed simple. Mars was a human who knew a vampire who was ruling New Orleans with an iron grip and oppressed witches and werewolves. Only cared about his empire and his vampires and no one else. Maybe, for Amelia, it was as simple as that, but Marisol it was not.

She had been alive too long for anything to be that simple. She had seen tyrants rise to power and then fall inevitably, she had seen nations be created and countries change as centuries passed. She had seen too much gore, too many tyrants, too many freedom fighters, for anything to be so simple.

Marcel, while a tyrant in some ways, was nowhere close to as bad as others. He was tame, mild in a way, and showed genuine care for others. Maybe they were only his vampires, but he did care for those he actually learned about. And she liked to think that he genuinely cared about her, because she cared about him. They were friends.

So it wasn't so simple knowing everything she did. She knew too much, and too many things that Amelia didn't. Nothing could be so black and white for her anymore, though it might be like for her young friend.

Marisol shrugged. "He's nice to me, and offers me protection, which is good. And he's great company when you get to know him."

Amelia rolled her eyes, obviously not believing Marisol, but that was alright. Marisol didn't have to prove her friend to anyone else, she knew Marcel in her own way and liked version he showed to her. But people changed depending on who they were dealing with, and to the witches, Marcel had no good trait.

"So I can assume that he knows about the witches' plot," Amelia said conversationally, though it was so painfully obvious that she was looking for answers, "Since, you know, friends don't keep these sort of things to themselves."

Marisol shook her head at the assumption. "No, you trusted me to keep that to myself, and I have. Friendship isn't as simple as you want it to be, it's much more complicated in practice."

"Not for me," Amelia stared at her.

"Well, it certainly looks like you're trying to complicate it," Marisol stared back at her before sighing, "Look, Amelia. You're my friend and I'm not going to sell you or anyone else out. And Marcel's my friend so I'm going to ask that you don't kill him. Anything else?"

"How can you be okay with knowing one of your friends is a part of a plot to destroy another of your friends?" Amelia asked her, stepping out from behind the counter to meet her.

"Like I said, friendship is complicated," Marisol shrugged, because that was the easiest answer to give, "And I'm not okay with it, but it's not like I can do anything to stop you without signing your death sentence. So, I tolerate it."

Because what else could she do? She was forced into this plot as well, helping Klaus Mikaelson the hybrid take New Orleans from Marcel. Though, as she thought about it, she was sure that she had much more complicated relationships in the past.

"Though, now that you've asked your questions, let me ask you min: do you really think Klaus Mikaelson will be a better ruler than Marcel?" she asked.

Amelia pursed her lips, thinking and hesitating for a moment. "We never asked Klaus to take over New Orleans for us and control it."

"But that's what he's going to do. Really, you call an Original back in town and you think he'll do what you ask and then leave, just like that? No, he's agreed because he has his own agenda. You want Marcel gone, he wants that too, and then that opens a new leadership position for him," Marisol told her, keeping her eyes trained on the young witch as she walked around the shop, talking as casually as if she was discussing the weather.

Amelia stared at her suspiciously, "How do you know that?"

"Oh, you know, people talk. The vampires are suspicious of him and what else could he want from New Orleans and Marcel than to rule the city himself?" Marisol asked rhetorically, "But, of course, then you have to think about him as a ruler. Do you think he'll be kinder than Marcel? Because I don't. I think anyone who's as feared as he is cannot be a merciful leader."

"Just don't," Amelia shook her head, cutting off Marisol as she was about to continue with more, "I don't want to think about that. Besides, he won't be able to control us once we get Davina back and complete the Harvest."

Marisol titled her head. This wasn't how she thought her day would go, first seeing that Sophie was so hesitant about Davina and stuttering over herself for the girl's location and now Amelia...it was becoming clear in her mind that they didn't just want to no longer be oppressed, but to complete the Harvest. Sophie wanted Davina so that she could send the final girl to her death.

"And then, once you complete the Harvest, you'll be able to take down an Original and kill him?" Marisol asked in a low voice, soft in a way that she didn't want to get the words out but needed to know, and desperate with the wish that it wasn't the case.

Klaus was not her friend, but he at least did not kill her when they met again. That had to be some sort of mercy, maybe, and she didn't just want him to die.

Amelia looked away. "Sophie doesn't know that part, you can't tell her. She just wants the Harvest to be completed so that she can get Dominique back – it's all she's wanted – but the rest of us have been talking. Just in case he does rise to power, we need to be strong enough to defeat him."

"That's a death sentence," Marisol said harshly, because she didn't want her friend dead by the hands of Klaus or anyone else.

"Not if we succeed," Amelia shook her head, "Look, Mars, we have a plan – and it's only if he does what you think he will. If he leaves, we won't kill him. It's that simple."

"Like I said, Amelia, it's never that simple," because everything was just getting a lot more complicated.

✧

THOUGH SHE AND Amelia had fought before, often having different beliefs on some major areas, this one left an especially sour taste in her mouth. It somewhat followed the same guideline as other disagreements, Marisol's unwavering friendship with Marcel and Amelia's growing hatred for the man, this was deeper because it was involving plots of murder and not just mischief.

It wasn't just a dethroning of Marcel like before, which she could live with as long as he was still undead and kicking as a vampire even if no longer king, it was murder. The death of Klaus Mikaelson, which she never thought she would want to live. She never particularly hated Klaus, though she imagine she should have, but he was not at the root of all her problems; Elijah was.

Because if Elijah hadn't entranced her and made her fall so deeply for him, then she never would have met Klaus, never would have betrayed the family, and never would have gotten Magnus killed and herself cursed. Though, she could admit that her friendship with Katerina also played a role in all of this, which was a whole other can of worms since she hadn't seen her old friend since that day.

Klaus said that she was alive and had been the reason he came to New Orleans in the first place because she left him a letter saying that the witches were plotting against him, which wasn't necessarily a lie all things considered now, and that was the first news she had received about Katerina in five hundred years. Klaus also said that she went by Katherine Pierce now, which Marisol kept alive in her mind just in case she wanted to ever reconnect with the woman.

She wasn't sure if she would, it had been so long and they hadn't even known each for a long time when they had been friends, and she wasn't the same woman Katerina met all those years ago and she was sure that Katherine was different than Katerina.

But Klaus...thinking of him dead didn't sit well with her. Even though he was trapping her into his plot of dethroning Marcel, she kept thinking about Hayley and the child. She liked to think that he cared about the baby, and she didn't want to see the baby grow up without Klaus if she could help it.

Magnus only had her, and while she knew that he never resented not having a father and not knowing the identity of him, she also knew that she could only offer him so much. Especially during that time, when they were looked down upon because she was a woman with a child out of wedlock and he was a bastard with no father, it wasn't a good look and didn't give him a good childhood.

Now, things were different, but if Klaus had a desire to be a father she didn't want Amelia and some of the other witches to take that from him.

But it was time to put that out of her head. She could stew over it later, when she was alone in her bedroom looking up at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep but unable to because there was too much going on inside her head, but right now she was looking too hot in a slim, black dress with her makeup done in glam and hair styled to not perfection but close enough.

She was sure that she was the only human in attendance to the party Marcel threw that wasn't food or entertainment for his vampires, but she had grown accustomed to that. Immediately, a tray with glasses of champagne passed her and she was quick to take one, sipping at it like the lady she was as she surveyed the party.

Marcel was nowhere to be seen, but that was fine. She didn't often get to spend a lot of time with him at these events anyway, but he always made it up with their little breakfasts alone.

However, as her eyes wandered, she saw Klaus and Rebekah standing together. She felt herself move forward towards them before she stopped herself suddenly. Here, she couldn't talk to them or give off any sense of recognition to them. They were strangers, not beings with a long history together.

Thankfully, though, her saving grace to that almost catastrophic failure came in the form of one Diego. "Mars," he greeted her, a glass of champagne in his own hand, he looked her up and down, checking her out and she didn't find any disgust inside her as he raked his eyes upon her as she would have been in past eras, "May I say you look wonderful tonight."

"Well, you already said it so I guess I can't tell if you could or not," she replied, cold to him as always as she took another sip of champagne.

Diego seemed to find her comment funny, though she wasn't attempting to be a comedian at all. "Sorry, then, but I thought you would like to know," he told her, though he didn't sound sorry at all, "You always look amazing in a dress."

Marisol hummed, taking yet another swallow of champagne because she was really going to need some if he kept talking to her. Diego was flirtatious by nature, but she wasn't. She wasn't old-fashioned, but she did grow up in an entirely different time and had lived through many eras where this straightforward attitude would never fly. It was all still new to her and while the attention was flattering, in a new she supposed, it made her uncomfortable.

"Always such a charmer," she muttered, knowing that he could hear.

"Thank you," he smiled in response, taking her comment with a hint of pride.

She stared at him. "That wasn't a compliment," she corrected him, making sure he knew that she wasn't falling for his charm at all.

Diego shrugged off her correction, "You can say it's not, but I think it is. Care to dance?"

"Really? You're asking the one who doesn't like you complimenting them to dance?" she raised an eyebrow at the man, because he did have some years under her belt and could be called that, though she still had more, "Besides, I thought we had established on many previous occasions that I don't dance."

"Today's a new day," was his reply to that statement, a hopeful smile on his face.

And, really, what the hell? Dancing with him would be better than pretend meeting with Rebekah and Klaus and dealing with them, Marcel, and another blonde lady talking to them. And it would beat just standing the corner by herself because she didn't have anyone else to dance with, so why not? Just this once.

"What the hell, sure," she shrugged, setting down her empty champagne glass on a table as he did the same. He looked incredibly proud of himself at seemingly convincing her to dance with him finally, seeing as he had been trying for too many times because he refused to give up.

"And here I was beginning to think you just couldn't dance," Diego teased her when they began to slow dance together.

She rolled her eyes at him, hard not to when he said stupid shit like that, "Please, I'm an amazing dancer. I've just never wanted to dance with you."

"Then what changed?" he was obviously looking for her to say that she charmed him or was in love with him or something like that, but it wasn't the case. Diego was annoying and had always been annoying, nothing had changed.

"I was bored," she shrugged, "And I didn't feel like standing by myself in the corner today."

"I thought you liked to be alone," he pointed out, remembering an excuse she liked to use a lot with him.

"I do," she agreed, "But I don't really want to be alone right now. Now, stop questioning me before I stop dancing with you and find someone else."

Diego was wise enough to shut at that point, only lowly humming to himself as they spun around and continued to dance. And, Marisol had to admit (though she would never verbally do it to Diego), that it was nice to dance with him. He didn't slyly trickle his hand down her back to reach her ass, like some other dance partners had done, and he knew his way on a dance floor in their slow rhythm. Not many people today did.

Though, she had to remind herself that Diego was not a modern man either. He had been alive far longer than other people who were born in the same year he was, and he knew how to dance which appealed to her.

As she was beginning to lull in her dance with him, as she usually did because this slow rhythm calmed her and reminded of her past lives, Diego's phone rang and he excused him. She huffed, finding herself alone without someone to dance with because now that she had allowed herself this, she wanted to continue and dance away the entire night like she used to do with Elijah.

No.

No thinking about Elijah, no thinking about that man in a positive light with good memories ever. She didn't want to be reminded him, she didn't want him in her mind, she wanted him gone. Good and gone and far away from her.

She moved to the bar, passing by Klaus and Rebekah without glancing at them because in this environment they were strangers and nothing else. She ordered herself a drank, sipped at it when really she wanted to chug it all the way done but that wouldn't be ladylike at all and her mother raised her in the manner of being a lady.

It might have been long ago, but she could still remember, and mother would be furious if she ever forgot and acted out of line with that mannerism.

She sipped at slowly like a lady would through the entire drink, ignoring her surroundings until she felt someone grab her arm. She looked up harshly to see Rebekah, who motioned to the door and she understood that it was time for them to go and help Sophie with her little spell with Klaus took care of the other part of the plan for the evening, including the death of Katie.

That was sad, Sophie was right that Katie didn't deserve to die, but so many innocent people had perished before so what was one more? God, five hundred years had made her cynical and so disassociated with the world and people in general. This was why no one should live forever.

She let Rebekah leave before her and gave it a few more minutes before her own exit as to not raise suspicion from anyone who Marcel had watching. Rebekah grabbing her arm was already more than enough, so she didn't want to add fuel to the flames.

When she got outside and turned the corner, Rebekah was there waiting for her in an alleyway, grabbing her and running them to the cemetery where Sophie would be performing the spell. Even though Magnus had done this to her before, it never got better and her stomach churned, though not enough to make her throw up her alcohol, thank God.

They walked together in silence until they saw Sophie who was kneeling over a map with candles surrounding her. "You're doing the right thing," Rebekah said when Sophie turned around to look at them, reassuring her that Katie's death would benefit them all. "It's the only way to find Elijah."

Sophie turned around, not caring to hear Rebekah's comment about her brother, and even Marisol turned to the side at it. "I'm doing what I have to do," Sophie corrected her, looking back at the map and her other items needed for perform the spell.

She began to chant, holding up a pocket watch over the map which Marisol assumed was Elijah's. It seemed like the sort of thing he would have anyway. The black sand she had dumped onto the map began to move towards the location where Elijah was, and Marisol couldn't pull her eyes away from it.

Sophie continued to chant with her eyes closed until she stopped suddenly, but it seemed premature. "Something's wrong," Sophie announced to them, "Katie's magic stopped. I can keep going."

"You can't. She'll sense it," Rebekah disagreed.

But now Sophie was determined. "No. I can find Davina. I just need another moment," the witch told them, reminding Marisol even more of Amelia and her want for Davina to be found so that they could complete the Harvest. Seemed like she was right in saying that all Sophie wanted was Monique (whoever that was) back.

Rebekah snatched the map away, the black sand following the ground as she did so. Sophie got up and looked at her with outrage. "You may willing to die to get your witch back, but Hayley and the baby will die with you. Elijah will never forgive us, and rescuing him will be for nothing. It's over. We failed."

The two stared at each other for another moment before Rebekah walked away, leaving Marisol with Sophie. She almost said something, almost opened up her mouth, but nothing felt right. She had no words for the woman, so she walked away as well, and it felt better than any final word would have.

✧

IT WAS TOO late in the evening when Klaus knocked on her door. Her went hair clung to her body and bathrobe when she answered, seeing that he was still dressed in his suit when she had already taken a bath to calm herself and had gotten rid of the clothes that reminded her of this horrid night.

"What do you want?" she asked him, quite harshly because it was much too late for him to be bothering her when she was still in her self-care routine to relax herself and distract herself before she was finally left alone with her thoughts.

"I thought you would like a warning that Elijah will soon be returning to us," he told her, taking in her appearance and state of little dress but not commenting on it.

She raised an eyebrow, because this warning was almost kind and Klaus Mikaelson didn't exactly do kindness. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, because she wanted to know why he would even consider her and how she didn't want Elijah back in her life, and the warning would allow her to seriously come to terms that the one man she wanted gone forever would be coming back into the fold and she would have to deal with all their unresolved issues.

"Why not?" he asked instead, his usual state of not giving too much up, "But you obviously don't want to see him yet you can't go anywhere, so why not tell you?"

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, because this just added to a layer of almost kindness towards her which was weird. Why her? Why now? Why at all? But before she could ask him anything else, he left her room, leaving her in a frustrated state of confusion mixed with panic at the realization that she was actually going to have to face Elijah and everything they left behind when he returned.