◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊: ❛ an act of kindness❜ ◢

✧

DREAMS WERE PESKY BUSINESS. Her unconscious mind had always tormented her, from a young girl who was cursed with new spells and visions of what was to come – of people dying and being revived, of curses breaking, of murder – to nightmares of Magnus being staked and now Elijah having his heart ripped out. Children dying because she wasn't enough to save them, her own body aging quickly and turning to ash.

         Dreams, the ones that empowered her as a young witch, inspiring new spells at the cost of her mental state with the terrible future, now tortured her as an old, old woman still with a young face.

         In her unconscious state, she felt a jolt by her in bed, and her mind shook away from another nightmare to a groggy darkness of the night. Her skin prickled with the cold air and her ears perked up at heavy breathing, unusual because her bedmate had no need for air yet he was still grasping for it. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up when she realized he wasn't down beside her.

         "Elijah?" she called out to the night, focusing her eyes on his tense figure. His back strained and he propped himself up as he gasped for her, and when his eyes met her they were wild. Unfocused, all over the place, unable to stand still as they searched his brain for information. She leaned over more until she was draped against his back, her warmer body against his deathly cold one.

         "Elijah?" she tried again, hoping that the contact would pull him back, but he still took a moment to regain control.

         "Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized as he began to shake off whatever had scared him, placing a kiss on her forehead as she still had her chest pressed against his back and her arms snaked around him.

         "I don't mind," she whispered into the night, "What happened? You can tell me."

         His eyes met hers again, this time fully trained on just her and not wild at all, but still with an air of not fully being there. "As childish as it sounds, I had a nightmare. About Mikael – about my father."

         Marisol frowned and straightened her body a little. "It's not childish at all," she assured him quickly, "You're not the only one who gets nightmares – they're a frequent part of my sleep, at least." A pause. "Do you want to talk about it? About your nightmare?"

         Elijah closed his eyes then shook his head. "No, not tonight," he brought her chin up a bit and kissed her as another mark of assurance, "Go back to bed, Marisol. I didn't mean to wake up."

         "I'm glad you did. You don't have to face anything – even a little nightmare – alone. I'm right here for you," she reminded him, because this was Elijah. It was him and she cared for him, despite the logical part of her brain sometimes screaming at her that she shouldn't, despite the fact that he would kill her best friend without hesitation if he made one move against Klaus.

         This was her partner, her person, her Elijah. The man she dreamed of for five hundred years, the one who captured her soul all that time ago, the one who still had it now.

         He gave her a little smile and kissed her lips again, capturing them and holding them captive before unwrapping her from his body. "Go to sleep. I'm alright now, thanks to you."

         She gave him an uneasy glance before relenting and lying back down, trying to fight sleep as she waited for him to do the same before eventually it became too hard to fight her drooping eyelids and let her dreams take control again.

✧

         THE OLD LEADER of the human faction, and the Father to many who believed in Christianity, was dead, so of course there had to be a festival in his honor. Father Kieran, who Klaus said was hexed by a witch for reasons unknown, succumbed to his hex mixed with newfound vampirism and so Klaus killed him. Now, they drank in his honor.

         Rousseau's was an awfully loud place that day, louder than usual, as people cheered to Father Kieran and his service to the church, to who he was during his time to New Orleans and how he touched the lives of many. Marisol traced her finger around the rim of her glass, sat beside Elijah, and watching Klaus' miserably hid disdain for the event.

         "Seems rather uncivilized to laugh and dance around the body of a loved one," Klaus sneered, eyes burning on the different people who took shot after shot while lifting up their glass towards Father Kieran.

         "People grieve in different ways," Marisol shrugged. A party wasn't necessarily the traditional way to grieve anyone, a funeral was, but she thought it was nice. Instead of tears and sadness about him being gone, they cheered to who he was, and wasn't that just a nicer method? To be joyous over someone's life than sad over their death?

         "Yes, but far better to practice your process of grief, Niklaus – denial, rage, and hoarding coffins in basements," Elijah grinned sarcastically across from him, meeting Klaus' glare – though not as burning and realistic as he gave to the others in the bar.

         Marisol's eyes glanced over to the opening door of the bar to see Hayley's appearance, and her deadest eyes as she practically marched over to their table. Elijah, still in his lighter mood, barely offered Hayley a glance before cautioning her, "I will warn you, Hayley, Niklaus is in a spectacularly foul mood today."

         "Sod off," Klaus kicked him lightly under the table.

         Hayley, who didn't look like she was in the mood to play around, though she never was when it came to the Mikaelsons, trained her eyes upon Klaus. "What's the deal with these moonlight rings? Oliver's trying to set a revolution every five seconds. People are scared, angry, and frankly, I'm tired of stalling."

         "It's a day of peace, Hayley. Try and enjoy it," Klaus deflected easily, a commonplace for him when people asked too many questions he didn't feel like answering, "And, in the meantime, with all manner of unknown enemies conspiring against our family, you'll move back in with us."

         "Awesome! Then, we can do that thing where you lock me in the tower, I escape, there's drama, and then you all realized I'm very capable of looking after myself," Hayley started sarcastically then ending with a sneer.

         Marisol gave her a little laugh for the performance. "Honestly, Klaus, you didn't think that'd actually work, did you?" she asked him, still in her fit of laughter.

         Klaus' nose scrunched up in anger and frustration. "The rings are in progress," he cut through the deflection, getting to the heart of what Hayley wanted now, "I will live up to my word. We will find and punish whoever launched the attack on the Bayou, and you will return to the Compound for your own safety! But, right now – I'm gonna finish this bottle – and the next, in the hopes of drowning the demon who was chosen today to haunt me. Cheers, Mikael. Impeccable, Freudian timing."

         Marisol straightened up in her seat at the mention of Mikael, as did Elijah. They shared a glance before turning their attentions to Klaus. "Elaborate," Elijah demanded, "Have you dreamt of our father?"

         "Go ahead, have a good laugh," Klaus waved him off, which was enough of an answer in itself.

         "I can assure you there is no piece of this that I find even remotely amusing, Niklaus. Especially considering I've been dreaming of him, too," Elijah revealed, and it was Klaus' turn to tense and stare at Elijah.

         "What?"

         "If you are also seeing him..." Elijah wondered, looking around before his eyes trained of someone. When Marisol tried to match where his gaze was, she saw the redhaired witch Genevieve. "Perhaps our elusive, unknown enemy is orchestrating a further attack?"

         Klaus stared at Genevieve as well, eyes aflame. "Well, then. What better way to punctuate a day of peace than by killing someone?"

         Marisol sucked in a deep breath then downed her drink. "Cheers," she said to herself after doing so, because of course a day of peace couldn't just stay a day of peace. That would be asking too much, especially here in New Orleans.

✧

         MARISOL STARED BETWEEN the two Mikaelson brothers, studying their faces to see if they were keeping any secrets from her, missing any information, before repeating what they had just told her. "It's not Genevieve who's doing this, but she wanted you two to catch her for reasons unknown."

         "She wants us to trust her," Klaus clarified, "But yes."

         He took a step forward, going to the railing of the balcony and looking down at the people in New Orleans. Marisol sighed, "So she wants something from you...for whatever reason."

         Klaus straightened up a little and looked at her, as if waiting for her to continue as Elijah took a further step onto the balcony, shutting the door to the inside behind him. "I'm just saying, it doesn't make any sense. Either she wants you to trust you to lure you into a trap, which actually does make sense, or she needs her trust because...she needs something? But why would she come to you because she need something? You're kinda on another side of the war."

         "She makes a fair point, brother," Elijah agreed with Marisol, and the look he gave his brother led her to believe they had a discussion about Klaus' past relationship with Genevieve the possibility of it happening again.

         "Or, counter point, she misses me," Klaus said with a smirk, but his words were so empty she knew that he didn't believe that either.

         "I promise you your dick isn't magical enough for that," Marisol blinked, deadpan as she delivered him the news. "So, a trap. Yes?"

         "It's the most logical explanation," Elijah shrugged, "She wants us to trust her, so she'll do anything to gain our trust, including doing our biding."

         Marisol narrowed her eyes. "For now. She'll do your biding for now until you ask for too much and she springs the trap on you. Be careful."

         "We're Originals. If anything, we should be the ones telling you to be careful," Klaus sniped at her.

         "You may be an Original, but Hayley isn't, neither is your baby," Marisol rolled her eyes, "They are very much vulnerable. As much as Hayley values her independence and ability to take care of herself, she can't stop a witch on a warpath. She's incredibly vulnerable to magic, especially if a witch knows the right spell."

         Klaus locked his jaw, eyes burning holes into her own but she stood against him firmly, not allowing herself to be intimidated by him. "Right now, pretending to trust Genevieve is our best plan," he said instead, shifting the conversation back to its original purpose.

         "I'm not arguing that, but I am being cautious about her. She's a witch who's living on borrowed time. I may not know everything about ancestral witches, but I do know that they will destroy her if she doesn't obey them. That makes her inherently dangerous because you cannot trust that she will ever have your best interest," Marisol lectured, "She will betray you if the ancestors tell her to, and I'm sure that they will."

         "And so she'll betray us," Klaus decided, lifting himself from the lining of the balcony and walking back inside.

         Marisol huffed, watching him leave before turning her attention to Elijah who looked more amused than anything now. "What?" she asked and he simply shrugged, "No, seriously, what?"

         "You obliterated Niklaus in this argument and he barely said a word against you. He's not that kind to most people," he told her, before leaning in closer and taking her lips onto his own, allowing her to falter and succumb to him as her worries about Genevieve faded.

✧

         SURPRISINGLY, THROUGHOUT THE years, Marisol had been to more weddings than funerals. Of course, it wasn't like she stayed around long enough into the lives of anyone to see their funeral, except for the few cases of dying young. No, she usually saw the middle parts of human lives. The thirties, as people got married and had kids, and she had a whirlwind romance before leaving them tearfully with a bullshit excuse and going off to Europe with Magnus for a years young vacation.

         She didn't feel uncomfortable being at the funeral, but it was definitely an odd occurrence for her. Out of place in her life, yet so accurately placed in. She was the woman cursed not to die, who didn't age and stayed the same until the person she loved the most took their last breath. But other people died so easily – even vampires.

         The immortals always became so terribly mortal in the end, facing death with a stake in their heart, or something close to it as the least.

         But she didn't find the service sad at all, though she mostly attributed that to the fact that she didn't know Father Kieran. Heard of him, yes, met on several occasions with Marcel by her side introducing them. And she could picture his face perfectly in her brain, but they didn't know each other. Never had a meaningful conversation together, so she didn't weep for him. She had no reason to, no right to, as he was just a stranger who she happened to know.

         Elijah, who held her hand, was the same as her, but more empathetic. But Klaus...he had a haunting in his eyes of something more, as if Father Kieran meant something more, though she was sure that he hadn't the faintest relationship with the late father. She almost wanted to reach out and ask if he was alright, but held herself back when she remembered that they didn't have that relationship.

         If she was in that state, he wouldn't offer her any compassion, so why would she extend hers to him? No, she would just hold Elijah's hand and watch the funeral for appearances' sake and pretend to be sad and care that he died at all.

         Hayley kept coughing beside them, and Marisol frowned in worry that she was coming down with a cold. As the finale of the parade passed them and the funeral service ended, they clustered together and Marisol finally turned to the pregnant woman. "Are you alright? You're coughing a lot."

         "I'm fine," Hayley said reflexively, "It's probably just allergies."

         Marisol frowned, because she had been a werewolf for a long time, and they weren't affected by such things as allergies, but she didn't push it further. It was obvious Hayley didn't want to share with her, and she would respect that decision.

         Hayley's eyes wandered away from their little grouping to Francesca Correa, tilting her head to the group but keeping her eyes on the woman as she asked, "Do you think I was the target of those bombings?"

         "Of course you were the target! Were I to wage war on the wolves, you'd be my first kill! I would string you up, for all your worshipers to see," Klaus answered he.

         Marisol sent him a glare. "You're not helping," she muttered to him, even though the other two could clearly hear her.

         Elijah turned his attention towards Hayley, pointedly ignoring Klaus, "I believe that was my brother's way of telling you he'd like you to return home with us," and then he addressed his brother, "Perhaps try a different approach, Niklaus, with fewer references to murder."

         Klaus barely spared him an eye roll before looking at Hayley. "As much as I would hate to throw you over my shoulder, and drag you kicking and screaming to the Compound, we both know I will – for the sake of my child."

         "One bad dream, and suddenly, you want to be a responsible daddy!" Hayley snapped at him.

         Klaus leaned him close, whispering, "Let me put this into perspective: my father lived to torment me. It is not my intention to become him. This cycle of misery ends with my child."

         "Mmm," Hayley distanced herself from him before giving him a fake smile, "You forgot one thing in your little attempt to plead you case – she's not your child. She's ours."

         And in her fit of anger, Hayley left them, marching down the sidewalk leaving them behind. Elijah sarcastically complimented his brother before leaving them as well, moving to mingle with the other factions in a form of peacekeeping.

         "I bloody hate funerals," Klaus muttered to himself.

         Marisol crossed her arms, debating whether or not she wanted to be nice and give him advice or leave him to stew in his rejection, before huffing and placing herself in front of him as he began to move. Her glare made him freeze.

         "I know that intimidation and little bits of honesty with more threats usually work when you want people to do what you want, but clearly that's not working with Hayley. She's not scared of you, you can't force her to do whatever you want. Instead, you need to ask her. Not tell her she's coming back to the Compound and threaten to lock her up, but ask her. Or, better yet, let it be her suggestion. Plant the seeds but let it be her decision, her idea, and you agree with it. Hayley isn't a follower, she's a leader, and she won't do anything she knows you want."

         "I didn't ask you," Klaus made another attempt of getting past her but she stopped him again.

         "But you better be glad I told you anyway, because otherwise you're going to lose her. I don't know what you're planning to do with Hayley after she gives birth, and frankly, neither does she, and she's scared. She doesn't want you to kill her or force her to leave the baby alone because it's her child just as much as yours and she wants to be involved," Marisol locked eyes with him, "Assure her that she's still going to be involved with no resistance from you after the baby's born. She'll be more likely to follow you then."

         He opens his mouth when Genevieve calls out for him, and both of their heads whip around to see Hayley fall over. Klaus immediately sped over to her as Marisol ran as fast as she could, Elijah meeting them. The two brothers lift up her body and gently carry her back to the Compound with Marisol and Genevieve following them.

         Back there, they lay Hayley on a table and Genevieve took a step forward. "I can help –"

         Elijah pushed her away before she had the chance to even get close to Hayley. "Don't you touch her!"

         "Let it be, Elijah. She was a nurse," Klaus calmed his brother.

         "There's a spell I can. Klaus, get chamomile from the pantry," Genevieve ordered before looking down at the pregnant werewolf, "She's trembling. Your jacket, Elijah."

         Elijah rushed to get his jacket off and drape it over Hayley. "She's not breathing, I can hear the baby's heartbeat, but not hers."

         Genevieve went to check her pulse in confirmation as Marisol slowly moved over and grasped Hayley's hand. Even though she wasn't conscious, she needed comfort, and since there was nothing else she could offer, she held Hayley's hand.

         When Klaus returned with the chamomile, Genevieve took it, pressing a damp bundle against Hayley's forehead and chanting. "Coeur blesse, batter avec mwen. Coeur blesse, batter avec mwen."

         Impatiently, Klaus took his wrist, biting into it before offering it above Hayley's lips, but she didn't part them to take it. "Come on!" he yelled, urging the unconscious woman – dead woman. No, she couldn't think about that.

         "She's not breathing. It's not working!" Elijah shouted in his own frustration, and Marisol simply squeezed Hayley's hand harder.

         There was another minute or two of chanting before Elijah picked up Hayley. "I'm taking her to a real doctor."

         "If you move her from here, my spell will break. There won't be enough time to get her to a hospital," Genevieve warned him, which caused Elijah to lower her onto the table again.

         "Will the baby survive if delivered now?" Klaus asked frantically before lunging at Hayley, "I'll rip it out of her myself!"

         Elijah quickly blocked him before he reached her body and Marisol too extra measure of shielding Hayley with her body. "Hayley will bleed to death!" Genevieve told Klaus.

         "I won't lose that baby," Klaus shook his head.

         "I won't lose either of them," Elijah said with force.

         Genevieve continued to chant and Marisol took Hayley's hand again. "Come on, Hayley," she urged quietly, "Come on. Don't die now. Not like this."

         "I know what to do," Genevieve took a step back, looking at Klaus, "Get my bag, the gris-gris pouch! Now!"

         Elijah sped away in pursuit of her purse, returning with the pouch she needed as Marisol's heart pounded, staring at the dead woman who shouldn't be dead. With her pouch in hand, Genevieve began chanting something new, and moments later there was a loud gasp as Hayley awoke. She began to sit up as Elijah helped, Klaus rubbing her shoulder affectionately.

         "You're alright, love. You're alright," Klaus assured her, and Marisol took the moment to watch the affection he gave her, the same as when they were at the bayou baby doctor months ago.

         "I saw him," Hayley gasped out, locking eyes with Klaus, "He tried to kill me. I saw Mikael."

         Klaus hushed her, taking her to her room and allowed her to calm down before leaving her. Marisol threw her arms around Elijah, holding him close after the scare, needing a little bit of comfort. He didn't waste a second before embracing her back, kissing her forehead, and murmuring, "It's alright now."

         "It's not," she disagreed in a tired tone, "I always think that. I always think that when something happens here. We take care of it and I think, it's over. We can finally have a moment of peace, but it never lasts. I don't know when it will be over."

         Elijah's grip on her tightened, holding her close to him, giving her the impression that he was never letting go. "I'm here," was all he could offer her, not a promise that it would end soon, but a promise that he would stay with her, "I'm here."

         She hoped her own tight grip conveyed her thankfulness for it. Her heartrate slowed down and she sniffled away the last of her tears, and only then did he release her, his hands still remaining on her shoulders as he studied her. Done with his assessment, he gave her another kiss that she gratefully accepted before squeezing her shoulders and walking off after Genevieve.

         For a moment, she watched him before turning away and going to their room. It had been too long of a day and all she wanted was to wash it off of herself. Before she managed to even get to the bathroom after brushing her hair out and taking off her jewelry, there was a knock at the door.

         She frowned, because Elijah wouldn't knock to enter, and Hayley wasn't in any state to be up walking – not that Klaus would let her – which left only him. The Hybrid himself. She placed down her brush, debating whether or not to leave him and get into the bath before moving to the door and opening it to see him standing there.

         Her hand was still on the knob as she stared at him, not daring to speak first. Not another moment passed before his lips parted. "Thank you. For your advice," he said.

         Marisol could barely contain her shock, because never had Klaus Mikaelson thanked her for her service. He might insinuate that she did good work, or not kill her when she started dating his brother, but he never thanked her. Never anything like this. It was almost close to kindness.

         "It's not a problem. I more-so did it to save Hayley than you," she rambled on more than she wanted to, he offered her a half-amused smirk so she didn't feel so embarrassed for it.

         "I figured, but I still thought it was the least I could do to thank you. You've done a lot of Hayley – for our child – and you deserve the thanks, so take it," he said.

         No, this was no longer close to kindness. It was kindness. Kindness from the man with no mercy to his enemies, the one who could barely keep his family liking him, the man who messed up constantly when he tried to show how he cared to Hayley. He was being kind. A simple kind, one not veiled in anything.

         "Thank you," was all she could come up with for a reply.

         He looked her up and down for another moment before nodding his head a little. "Goodnight, Marisol."

         "Goodnight, Klaus," she called back as he began to walk away. She closed the door, frowning at herself because that was not what she expected in the slightest. He was kind to her, and that was as much of an apology she could expect for passing her when it came to the moonlight rings.

         But it was kindness, so she let the warm feeling spread around inside of her as she got into her bath, closing her eyes and letting the nightmares slip away.

authors note

y'all i have been writing centuries for close to two years now and we're finally coming to an end. i'm not even kidding there's only like two or three chapters left and then it's over which is both exciting and also scary and sad.

but also don't worry bc of course this won't be the end of marisol's story!!!!!