◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: ❛ no more secrets ❜ ◢

✧

         MARISOL WAS NO ARTIST. She doodled flowers sometimes to pass the time, getting fairly well at this one drawing since she had been practicing for years, and now that there was a semblance of peace in New Orleans she felt safe again going out to a café, sitting outside, and doodling flowers mindlessly. A little dab of paint on the petals when she was done sketching, letting her mind wander and forget about the different power plays of the city.

"I'm better now," she told Magnus over the phone, soothing his worries after her last breakdown. She used to call him once a week, before Klaus came to town, but since his arrivals the weeks had been increasingly hectic and she didn't want anyone to hear her talking to Magnus.

They might get ideas, they might go searching, and she would never do anything to place her nephew in danger. He had noticed the drop in calls, asked about it many times, and she had swiftly moved them onto the next subject. Magnus didn't need to know about New Orleans, not until everything was really settled and the baby was born. Then she would tell him, and maybe he would even visit.

Maybe.

Marisol still held her breath on that, the paranoia creeping in that if she did, that would be the one time when something would massively – bigger than anything before – would go wrong and Magnus would be killed. Or maybe, as a power play, Klaus would use him as his next warning to others and rip out his heart. The possibilities were endless, and not exactly unfounded, so perhaps Magnus coming back to New Orleans wouldn't be a good idea.

Except to save Davina, briefly in the night before anyone knew he was there and she was gone. That would be the only exception depending on Davina's decision, and whatever she wanted, Marisol would do for her.

"You don't have to lie to me, it's okay not to be fine. I can come to you at any moment," he assured her.

She laughed a little, dabbing her brush into the paint again then smoothing it over her paper, "As much as I appreciate the effort, it simply isn't necessary. Everything's good here. I'm even sipping a coffee and painting outside listening to someone play the saxophone."

"So it's good?" because, of course, hearing that she felt safe enough to sit outside and let her mind wander instead of being on high alert would be what got him.

"I'm good," she confirmed yet again for him, though she didn't mind because she knew it came from a place of protection and love, "And I'm happy. I met someone."

"You did?" Magnus' tone turned a little coy, pushing forward, "Someone handsome? Someone...not so mundane?"

"Of course he's handsome, have you ever known me to go someone not?" she rolled her eyes, "And he's a vampire. He's...good for me. He's trying to do a lot of good here. You'd like him."

"I'm happy for you. You should be happy, and you should have someone who's good. But – if he ever breaks your heart, I'll kill him," he said seriously, and Magnus gave him a little laugh.

That would not end well, and telling Magnus who she was dating wouldn't end well either, so that would be a secret for another day to reveal. Right now, he needed to know that she was happy, that her life was going well, and there was no reason to be concerned.

Because she was – she was happy, and the peace treaties were still holding up nicely, the factions weren't attacking each other though they weren't exactly mingling either. She supposed that was too much to ask for right now, just having them not murdering each other was enough for now.

She opened her mouth to say something when the chair opposite of her was moved back and someone took a seat. She looked up and saw Thierry – one of Marcel's guys – staring at her. "We need to talk," he said plainly and she held up a finger at him.

"I have to go. Talk to you later," then ended the call before Magnus could say anything back. She put her phone away then stared at Thierry, "Marcel sent you, didn't he?"

He nodded. "He wants to meet with you."

"Marcel was banished from the French Quarter, and he should be smart enough to know that means running far, far away from Louisiana," Marisol stated.

Thierry gave her a half-smile, "But you know Marcel."

"I know Marcel," she agreed, "And I know he's not smart enough to cut his loses and save his life. No, he just wants this city back, correct? And he wants to meet with me so that I can play double agent for him, give him the inside scoop since I'm close with the Mikaelsons. Am I getting warm?"

"He wants your help. From friend to friend," Thierry said in a much nicer, more diplomatic approach than what she said.

Marisol sighed. "So I'm correct. Marcel wants to use me. You know, I thought he would've learned not to use his friends after Davina, but I guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

Her eyes then flickered to meet Thierry's, burning into his soul in an attempt to also burn it into Marcel's in extension. "My answer is no. Tell Marcel that he's still my friend and I love him dearly, but I won't betray my partner and ruin everything he's working hard towards because Marcel wants to continue to play king. It's time for democracy, not monarchy. Not anymore. I'm not going to help him."

Thierry's nose flinched a little in anger, learning closely over the table. "So you'll abandon him? Again, like you always do for the Mikaelsons? Look, I don't understand why he still wants your help after you've proven that the only people you'll listen to are the Originals, but he's not gonna stop. Marcel's going to come, and he's going to take back his city."

"Marcel doesn't own New Orleans. Frankly, neither do the Mikaelsons. Now, I would watch my tone because not only can I kill you here by myself, I do have the backing of Elijah – you're correct – and if he catches the faintest hint that you're here talking to me he'd kill you. And, well, I might just let him," Marisol threatened, eyes dead set on him, "Marcel should count himself lucky that he wasn't killed and take his second chance running the hell away from the city. That's my friendship. Take it or leave it."

She finished his cup of coffee, standing up, taking her paint and her unfinished work. "Bother me again and I won't hesitate this time. Marcel may be my friend, but you aren't, and I have no problems with getting rid of you if you become a problem. Understood?"

She threw away her unfinished work, no longer feeling peaceful or even safe in the city. Her eyes scanned the streets, trying to recognize anyone who might be following her – with their eyes or with their feet. Marcel was her friend, but she wouldn't betray her partner for him.

She would not fight in this power struggle any longer, she was simply a civilian of New Orleans now. No more fighting, no more sacrificing, only building to a better tomorrow.

And part of that was entertaining the witches with a celebration of the Harvest girls. The Feast of Blessings, as they called it, to honor the sacrifices of the Harvest and the different elements that the girls represented. However, there wouldn't be four elements represented since only three had been resurrected – Genevieve still taking place of the final girl.

While no one was thrilled about this idea, it must be done to preserve the peace, so Elijah allowed the feast and hosted it, going to the different faction leaders to tell them what would be required of them. He offered for Marisol to go with him, but she declined because it would be better for just Elijah – who they saw as holding the power – to make the demands without her.

She was just an accessory to peace, not the beholder of it. Besides, he would fair nicely without her.

When he got back to the Compound, she was there reviewing a document that the human faction sent over for them to look at, milking a glass of wine. "Marisol," he nodded towards her when he came into the dining room where she sat.

"Elijah," she gave him a smile, "How'd it go?"

"As well as can be expected," he sighed, sitting down opposite of her, "Diego protested greatly but eventually relented, Francesca desires a favor for the humans in repayment, but the wolves...Hayley objected, yet her companions did not. They agreed easily, much easier than to be expected especially after last time. It...concerns me."

She tried not to tense up or give any hint that she might know why this could be. While she was done protecting Klaus, she also wanted to see how his plan played out. Warning Hayley had been a final farewell to their friendship, but now, if Elijah knew, Klaus' plan would have to change and she wouldn't know. But she wanted to know, she wanted to be able to look out for it, sense it, and know it.

So she kept it from Elijah, just as she kept Marcel's attempts of an uprising from him. One, for her own curiosity and the other out of friendship. But her favors towards friends were slowly running out and she didn't have the patience to keep handing them out. But this...the wolves. That would be her secret until she was no longer interested, until maybe she wanted Elijah's fury to be turned onto Klaus.

"Hayley will handle it, I'm sure," Marisol attempt to assure him, "She's a wildfire."

"That I know," Elijah's lips quipped into a smile, shaking his head a little, "Yes, I suppose you're right. I just don't want whatever schemes they're working towards to interfere with anything."

"I know. I know," and if that didn't make her guilty...no, it wasn't the right time anyway. Elijah should be focusing on the witches, making sure that their feast wasn't an attempt of killing everybody or anything as chaotic as that.

"What do you have there?" Elijah looked down at the document.

"It's the paper from Francesca, her terms and other considerations she wants us to take a look at," Marisol informed, turning the document to him, "You can take a look at it yourself if you want."

"Yes, thank you," he nodded, immediately flipping back to the front and starting his own reading. Seeing him engrossed, she knew the time for conversation was over and left him to it, getting up with her glass and sipping, walking upstairs. She passed by Klaus' room, eyes glancing to the cracked door but making pause until the door opened more.

"A word?" he asked.

"No," and make a move to walk away before Klaus grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room. She struggled against him but his strength got the better of her and she couldn't pull away. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I know, but you had many words to share the other night and I never had the chance to tell my side of the story, love," he pulled her out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind them.

"Well maybe because your side of the story doesn't exactly matter," she rolled her eyes, "I know your side, I know why you didn't give me the ring. I'm not an idiot."

"I never said you were, or implied it for that matter. I'm simply wondering why you haven't informed Elijah about my plans involving the wolves yet."

Marisol raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanted to talk to me because you're wondering why I haven't told him? Well, it's not for you, but for me. I want to see how this all plays out for you, if you'll get what you want or if you'll just burn more bridges. I'm thinking it'll be more of the latter personally, but we'll just have to see. Oh, and don't worry, he'll find out soon enough. Secrets like these never stay in the dark for long."

"No matter the outcome, Elijah will always be on my side," Klaus looked at her.

While her heart wanted to argue, to scoff at him because Elijah was his own person, he could stop following after Klaus whenever he desired, she knew – her brain knew, he was correct. Time and time again, Elijah continued to follow him and try to save him because he truly believed there was a good man underneath all those layers of evil.

"Elijah stays by your side out of duty. He made a promise to save you. He doesn't stay by your side because he loves you. If the promise had never been made, he wouldn't be here today," she lied, "So I wouldn't get too cocky."

Oh, how she lied. How she knew where to hurt him and did it anyway, feeding him the lies that tarnished him. Elijah was here for more than a duty, that was plain enough to see, but Klaus had used and abused his brother many times. She had seen it. He had been willing to dagger Elijah and send him off to Marcel – the enemy – and then infect him with a werewolf bite. Klaus was willing to kill Rebekah, and how close he had come to that, because of a betrayal that happened nearly a century ago.

But Klaus still snarled, and he still grabbed her neck and pinned her against the wall. And she stared at him, not saying a word, watching every move he made until eventually he let her go. He huffed a little, eyes turning to stone as he looked at him, and she took the hint to leave.

She opened the door to his room, walking through it until she got to her own, fingers grasping at her neck as the pain throbbed.

✧

DAVINA LOOKED BEAUTIFUL in her dress, though she didn't look the slightest bit comfortable. The flame red matched her skin tone well, embodied her nicely, but the boldness didn't suit her personality as she continued to shy away from it. She sat with the other Harvest girls, watching as they all received gifts yet Davina was given nothing.

Something burned deeply in Marisol as she watched, almost crushing the gift she had gotten for Davina. She knew that Davina was an artist, so she had picked out some new paints for her, along with a little note containing Magnus' phone number if she ever needed him to find her. She made a move to go towards Davina but Elijah swiftly found himself near her, pulling her back.

"What are you doing?" Marisol whispered to him harshly.

"We mustn't make a scene," he whispered back, "You can give her the paints later."

Marisol stared at him. "Do you see what they're doing? It's not right. I won't let them continue to exclude her."

"Making a scene will hinder our movements towards peace, they won't take kindly to it – especially from yourself, since they know you're in charge," Elijah attempted to placate her, "It will have no benefit."

"Not for us," she agreed, "But for Davina? It could mean the world. Look at her, she's sad. I won't let Genevieve continue to play this cruel trick on her."

She ripped her arm away from his grasp, knowing she was only able to because he allowed it, moving towards Davina not stopping when an attendant stopped her either. All eyes were upon her, yet she did not falter, simply placing the small gift in front of Davina as others had done with the Harvest girls beside her.

She sent Davina a wink, turning away seeing Genevieve's eyes burn holes in her. Giving Genevieve the fakest smile she had in her, she went back to stand by Elijah, proud of herself. Davina at least appreciated her efforts, and that was what mattered. Not Genevieve – the witch who was living off of another girl's time – or the promise of peace, but Davina. People always mattered more.

"I don't care that I've angered her, because Davina needed this. She deserved this," Marisol looked up at Elijah, "The witches have been cruel to her and I won't perpetuate it because of the peace. I will protect her, and I will help her because that's who I am."

Elijah sighed, but nodded. "I know," that seemed to be as much as he could give at the moment, "I know."

They moved away as the Harvest girls stood up, the presenting of gifts having been finished, and Elijah took her hand. "Hayley is here on behalf of the wolves," he informed her.

"Have you talked to her yet?" she asked in return.

"Yes, she thought it best to come alone. Apparently, she has some matters to discuss with Klaus as well," he continued, "I have others keeping an eye out for when they meet."

He eyed her for a second then let his gaze wander and she swallowed down the guilt and the dread. It would be fine in the end, she told herself, because everything was always fine in the end. It would take a lot of grief to get there, but it always worked out. She hoped that the pattern would repeat itself for this instance.

"It's probably for the best that none of the other wolves are here tonight," Marisol distracted, "There's still a lot of tension between them and the vampires, so at least that won't be a problem tonight."

"Yes, but the vampires are still tense around the witches, and have no kindness to extend towards them," Elijah countered.

"Then we focus on that problem," Marisol concluded, and Elijah nodded in agreement.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Klaus projected, gaining the attention of everyone in the room as they silenced their conversations to look at the hybrid. Elijah's hand let go of Marisol's as he readied to stop his brother the moment it was needed, "May I have your attention, please. We are gathered here today to pay homage to our beloved witches, but one very special witch has been utterly ignored. That seems a little unfair to me."

He then handed Davina his own gift, which she pushed away from herself. "No, I don't want your gift," she rejected him.

Surprisingly, he didn't seem angered by this rejection. "I understand why you would reject me, given our past. In truth, many of us here today have been wronged in the conflict which my brother's treaty ended. Your friend Josh was involved in a plot to kill me. It would be well within my right to execute him here and now. But, in the spirit of solidarity, and for your favor, Davina, I hereby pardon him. Josh from this day forward, you have nothing to fear from me. Please," he ushered the box into Davina's hand again, which she took this time, before Klaus left them.

"That was certainly a scene," Marisol commented, "But it was...nice."

Her word had a biting edge at the back of it, because she didn't trust his kindness for a minute. Klaus was cruel and kind, whatever would get him what he wanted. He knew from experience that cruelty would only lead to Davina's anger, so he tried a different approach. One that was also using on the wolves, so Marisol watched with apprehension.

"Yes," Elijah agreed, but his tone implied that he held the same hesitation as her. "Excuse me."

Then he was gone, so Marisol meandered around before finding Davina who was with Josh. "You look beautiful," she complimented the young girl.

"Thank you," Davina nodded her head, "And thank you for your gift. I haven't been painting recently, but when I start back, I'll definitely use the paints. And, uh, thanks for your letter."

Marisol sent her another wink. "Of course. Just tell him that I gave you his number and he'll do anything for you."

Davina hesitated, then shook it off, wrapping herself around Marisol in a hug which she returned without wasting a moment. When they parted, Marisol watched a large group of drummers marched into the party.

"Happy Feast of Blessings. We have a message for all of you from Marcel Gerard," the lead drummer announced as Marisol felt her stomach drop as the drummers pulled out straight razors and sliced open their wrists.

Marisol's head went all directions watching as the vampires began to react to the sight and smell of blood. "Control yourselves! This is a vulgar trick," Elijah urged them before shouting, "We do not violate our agreement."

But then the lights went out and people began to scream. "Davina!" Marisol called out, grabbing onto her and then Josh, pushing them away, "Get her out of here!"

She felt as they began to rush away, hearing screams of others and feet clattering against the floor as people began to run. Marisol stumbled back a little, unable to see anything or find anyone she knew.

Then in another flash, the lights turned back on. There were dozens of dead bodies and injured humans lying on the ground, the drummers are feed upon and dead. On one of the walls, there was a message: THERE WILL BE NO PEACE.

Marisol felt rage fuel through her veins at Marcel and the destruction he caused. Her jaw tensed and she wanted to scream out, to find Marcel and beat it into him what he had done and why it was wrong. But then there was a hand upon her arm and she flinched back before seeing Elijah.

"Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked her.

"What?" her eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you know what Marcel was planning?" he asked again.

"No, of course not!" she shook her head, "Why would you even ask that?"

"I know that Thierry came to you this morning," he stated and Marisol jerked back from his grip, "You have people following me?"

"For your protection."

"For my – I can take care of myself. And no, I didn't know this was going to happen. Thierry may have come on Marcel's behalf, but I refused them. I want peace, not death," Marisol shook her head at him again, marching off from him.

She felt like she had been stabbed, hearing Elijah's allegations against her, as if he truly believed that she would betray him and undo the treaties they had set up together just for a friend. All she wanted was peace, not war. And he had her followed. He had people following after her, he had been watching her when she wanted to be alone.

None of it sat well with her, this anger bubbling in her with no place to go, but she wouldn't dare go to Marcel's now. He would have her anger another time, and she wouldn't hold back on him.

✧

WHILE SHE HAD washed all remnants of the night off of her, it still clung onto her new clothes and freshly washed hair. And the anger that had been present at the party was still there burning inside of her. She watched over the late New Orleans, hearing people still playing music and drunk people laughing at each other as they chugged more drinks.

She heard footsteps behind her as someone entered the balcony. She didn't make a move to see who it was, already knowing, and having nothing to start the conversation with.

"I apologize," he eventually began, "For my accusations earlier tonight. I wasn't thinking clearly, but that is no excuse. I know you want peace, and I know you wouldn't have allowed Marcel to continue with his plans. I made the wrong judgement call."

"You did," she agreed, "Marcel is my friend, and he will continue to be my friend, but I have never wanted war. I've seen enough of them, and they're all too barbaric for my taste. It hurts that you would think I would do that, even for just a second, and I feel violated that you would have people following me without my knowledge."

"I only had them for your protection, just in case something were to happen," Elijah defended himself.

"If someone wanted to jump me, I can take them myself. I don't need you to employ any protection on my behalf," Marisol snapped back at him, "I don't want it. Call them off immediately and never try anything like that again."

There was a pause, then: "Very well. As long as you don't keep any secrets about my brother's plans ever again either."

Her stomach dropped and she had to swallow before getting out her next words, "So you know."

"I do," he nodded, finally taking a seat next to her, "And it pains me that you would not inform me that my brother is creating an alliance with the wolves."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't want him to change his plan because you knew. I thought it better to let him stick with his original plan and be one step ahead."

"Still would have been nice to know," he muttered.

She turned to him. "How about this? No more secrets between us. We tell each other everything and then there will no doubts and no hurting each other. I don't know anything more about Klaus' plan than I'm sure you do now, and I'm not working with Marcel. I won't."

"Very well," he agreed, "On that interest, I must inform you that Thierry is now dead."

She let the news wash over her before asking, "Your doing?"

He nodded. "There had to be consequences for Marcel's actions, but for you and Rebekah I didn't kill him. Keeping Thierry alive was never on the table, though."

"Okay," she held out her hand for him, "No more secrets."

"No more secrets," he clasped his hand in hers, shaking upon it, further sealing the deal with a kiss.

While the witches had their own agendas, and Klaus was unraveling a plan of his own with the wolves, and the humans still called for an unknown favor, they had each other. The world may be against him, but she had Elijah. And that was enough for her.