𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — the courageous 

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 suffocating. Davina was passed out, her body entirely limp as the sedative spread throughout her bloodstream. Ophelia didn't know what to do. The sedative should have calmed her, but clearly the young witch was still completely terrified, even in her unconscious state.

Outside the winds blew at such a speed that the shutters of the windows threatened to snap off, Ophelia heard the chairs and tables in the courtyard get strewn about by the forceful breeze. Everything was getting out of hand, and with each threatening strike of wind, the siphon knew each of the other occupants of the compound were becoming more and more comfortable with sacrificing the teenager to the Harvest.

Ophelia could hear Marcel and Klaus shouting at one another, she knew that Marcel was against the Harvest; no matter the bad choices he had made, it was obvious that he cared for Davina like a daughter. Ophelia trusted that he would help her keep Davina safe and alive, she wasn't a believer of the Harvest. She may not have grown up in New Orleans or followed the witch's customs, but she knew witches. They were willing to sacrifice for power. Her family did so who was to say that the pesky witches of the Quarter weren't as conniving?

The argument down in the courtyard finally came to a standstill; Ophelia had heard her name mentioned more than once, but in all honesty, she didn't care what any of them had to say; Davina was all that mattered for the time being. Though she had to admit that the two vampires that stood guard at the door looking at her every time her name was mentioned was rather irritating.

The siphon's head rose upon the sound of the wooden door to the bedroom creaking open; Marcel walked in, his usual prideful walk missing, blown away in the wind that Davina's unconscious state brewed up. His eyes no longer held authority, they were sad and they were angry; sad at having to see the young witch suffer, and angry at the way everyone seemed to be completely fine with the idea of sacrificing a sixteen-year-old in a ritual that wasn't proven to work.

"How's she doing?" the man muttered towards the siphon as he joined her side, arms folded across his chest.

The shutter of the window being ripped off by the vicious winds seemed to have explained the situation perfectly. Ophelia ignored the sound, "It's getting worse the longer she's sedated."

The siphon grit her teeth together, a determined look spreading over her face as she looked from Davina and back to Marcel who rose a brow at the expression. Her whiskey-colored eyes flickered between Marcel and the guards, and he immediately followed; his body turned into a dark blur as he sped across the room and snapped the guard's necks without hesitation before speeding to Davina's side.

"Let's get her out of here." 

Ophelia nodded as she made her way to the vampire's side. Marcel held Davina close with one arm, the other winding around Ophelia's waist before using his vampire speed to take the three of them somewhere safe.

Somewhere they wouldn't find Davina.

⋆⋆⋆

Marcel had taken them to the storage locker that Thierry owned on the docks. The usual salty breeze whipped past the building, howling like a wolf as it forced ferocious waves of dark water to smash onto the docks. Thunder rumbled in the sky and slate-grey clouds swirled, ready to part for the bolts of lightning that threatened to strike the earth at a moment's notice.

Davina's head rested in Ophelia's lap as the siphon trailed her fingers through the young witch's curled hair. She looked peaceful as she laid silently with a blanket covering her. Her chest rose and fell softly, her breath tickling Ophelia's forearm as the woman mindlessly continued to soothe the girl as best she could, especially after sending the girl into a spell of pain when she siphoned her multitudes of magic away.

Marcel had disappeared to guard the docks, he had been careful to choose a place not many would think to look, but even so, they needed to be certain.

Ophelia had a storm brewing inside of her, one that rivaled the one outside. Her stomach was filled with crashing waves, her lungs filled with tornado-like breaths and her blood felt like the embers of a fire that was ready to reignite. She had no idea what to do; the storm would soon make way for heavy pelts of rain and New Orleans would be in danger of flooding... earth, air, water and fire; the last of those elements was to be feared immensely.

If fire began to ravage the city, well, only the Mikaelson's would be left standing. Humans, vampires, wolves, and witches would burn until nothing but ashes blew in the ghastly winds. The magic was eating Davina alive, Ophelia knew it, but surely if she carried on siphoning it away... it would help.

But every time Ophelia took magic from Davina, she could immediately feel it swell and erupt in the young witch, like a volcano with a never-ending flow. Ophelia, despite the raging winds and bitter breezes, had pools of sweat on her forehead; she had never siphoned such magic before and her body was working double time... though from the state outside and the magic that raged on inside of Davina, she didn't seem to be making even a shred of difference.

The siphon was leaning against the wall, her head pressed against it to quell the forming headache that scratched at the back of her skull.

"You alright?" Marcel questioned as he stepped inside the locker. He was genuinely concerned; he knew that Ophelia was siphoning Davina every ten to fifteen minutes and she was taking in far too much magic. He could see the warm droplets of sweat rolling down her temples, the slight sheen covered her exposed arms since she had already shed her jacket.

A deep sigh was released and Ophelia forced her eyes open, "I'm okay... I don't think it's helping."

"It used to help before."

"I can feel her magic, Marcel. Every time I take some away more replaces it. It's never-ending..."

The pair shared a small silence and Marcel settled himself on the makeshift bed Davina rested on. Ophelia could see the worry in his eyes, and she expected that her eyes were flooded with worry too. Davina was the only family Ophelia had, the only family Marcel had, and in return, they were all the young witch had.

Slowly, Davina's clouded eyes fluttered open and her lips managed a small grin when she awoke to see that Ophelia had fulfilled her promise of being the first person she saw. As her eyes trailed the room, they finally landed on Marcel and the young girl snapped into a sitting position as she threw out a hand; her magic slamming Marcel into the wall.

Ophelia's hands immediately landed on Davina's shoulders, her touch as light as a feather as her voice lowered to a velvety whisper, "Marcel's here to help you, he helped me get you out."

"No! He wants to kill me, just like everyone else!"

"Marcel is the one who put a protection spell on you! He told me, without the text he sent, I wouldn't have thought to save Tim."

Davina's grip on Marcel finally let up and the man tumbled to the ground as she trained her eyes on him in surprise, "You're the one who saved me?"

"Yeah, but now the witch who did the spell is in league with the rest of them, so I had to take you away."

"So you could use me as a weapon?" the young witch spat and Ophelia could only feel for the poor girl. She had been used from the moment she had magic. Nothing but a source of power for so many.

"You think Lia would let me be here if I wanted that?"

Davina's eyes darted to the woman who was still sat behind her, her face looked far lighter than usual and had a shine to it, she looked sick. But even as she tried to force her body to absorb the magic she had siphoned; Ophelia still rose a brow in question to the young witch; of course Ophelia wouldn't have let him near Davina if she thought that his motives weren't good.

"Look, D, I messed up. All this power that you have, it gave me an advantage. It helped me punish the witches, and it let me run the city, and I let that mean too much. All right? But that's over with now." Marcel took a seat back on Davina's makeshift bed, a hand stretching out, "One survivor to another, all I want to do is keep you alive, all we want to do is keep you alive, I swear."

Davina stared at his hand, her eyes welling with tears as she slipped her own, smaller one in his, the other reaching out to Ophelia who immediately grasp the girl's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her watery sea-green eyes fluttered shut as she gripped onto both Ophelia and Marcel for dear life.

Her heart was pounding inside her chest, more forceful than the rumblings of the grizzly thunder that shook the air. Her head ducked, a curtain of messy brunette curls swarming around her as a short sob broke through her lips, "I'm scared. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"We aren't going to let anyone hurt you, we'll fix this..." Ophelia spoke, her tone so steady that Davina couldn't help but believe her. Ophelia's umber eyes bore into Davina's, her voice strong as she shared a quick look with Marcel, her words were selfish. Avina didn't deserve to die, she was just a child thrown to the metaphorical wolves... but Ophelia didn't know if she, herself would survive it.

It had been so long since she had felt love for somebody, and she loved Davina, so much. If she had to let her go, watch somebody else she cared about disappear and leave her alone... she didn't know if she'd handle it, she didn't know if she'd make it.

Her eyes turned to stone. 

"I don't care if this city drowns or burns, as long as you're okay."

⋆⋆⋆

The third stage had made its presence known. Thick black clouds swarmed the air like bugs to a flower on a warm summer's day and heavy pelts of rain pound over the city, each one smacking the ground harshly. The sound of the bullet-like droplets of rain grated on the building and though rain usually soothed Ophelia, this time, she knew it was nothing but an omen.

Things with Davina were getting worse. Her head was covered in sweat, her eyes were half-lidded as the poor girl fought to stay awake and her body shivered despite the growing temperature that boiled at her skin.

Ophelia was still sat with the young witch's head in her lap, a hand pressed to her forehead to offer some coolness. She had continuously tried to siphon the girl but it seemed that with each session, the magic would come back faster and stronger than before, and so, she had stopped. There was nothing more she could do except stay by Davina's side and wait it out.

Marcel hadn't moved from his spot on the makeshift bed either. He held one of Davina's hands, keeping it covered with his own in fear that with even a second away, she'd disappear entirely.

"If I can just wait it out a few more weeks... Help me, please?" the little witch rasped, her voice crumbling and cracking with each syllable. Desperation and fear were choking her.

"I told you, we're not leaving. Either of us." Ophelia muttered, her hand moving a damp strand of hair from the young girl's head.

Marcel shot the girls a tight-lipped smile as he tightened his grip on Davina's hand, his thumb gently swiping over her knuckles, "Lia's right, we're here to stay, and when it's over, I'll do what I should have done- get you out of town.

A smile pulled at Davina's lips as she recalled what she had seen in her sleep, the face of the boy she adored, the boy that had almost died. "I had a dream that Tim didn't leave. He played a song that he wrote for me, and he kissed me, and we were just normal... he told me he loved me in person..."

"That sounds like a beautiful dream." Rebekah's light tone interrupted. There was a slight edge to the tone, one that was reflected in her eyes, her words were sad and Ophelia knew what she was going to say, what she wanted to happen. She was like the rest; she wanted the harvest to be completed too. But unlike the others, Ophelia could see that Rebekah did have a shred of guilt, she cared for the witch too, in her own way.

She did. As she stood there, Rebekah could feel the guilt in the pit of her stomach, the sadness squeezing her heart as she watched Davina's eyes flood with fearful tears, as she watched Marcel's face crumble and as she watched Ophelia swallow heavily, concealing the beads of water that burn at her own eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Marcel snapped. His eyes glued to the blonde, his eyes aware of every movement she made.

She ignored him, her face becoming solemn, "But it was just a dream."

"Get out!"

"This is killing her. Your stubbornness will mean her death."

They all knew it was true. Ophelia had known from the moment the siphoning had stopped affecting the witch. Magic was flooding her veins and it would consume her, but she still had to have hope that if enough time passed, Davina would be okay. 

Marcel clung to hope like a lifeline. He believed that Davina would make it. She was strong and brave; she was like Ophelia and though she was mortal, he could see her laughing death in the face if she wanted; Davina followed in her footsteps. Her attitude had grown from meeting Ophelia, a light had returned and there was no way he was going to see it put out.

Ophelia watched on as Marcel shook his head, "I promised her I'd fight for her. I'm not breaking that promise."

"No one is asking you not to fight. You're the only family that this girl has. You both owe it to her to fight for her to live." and with that, Rebekah became a blur of blonde as she sped off. She had said her peace, she had tried to convince them, there was nothing more she could do. She wasn't going to pry the girl from Ophelia's arms, that wouldn't have ended well for anybody. 

They were plunged into silence.

They could hear the thundering rain growing louder and stronger with each passing second. Every breath Davina took spurred the waterfall-like shower on, thunder and lightning filled the sky, parting through the looming grey clouds.

"She's right," Davina spoke. Her voice meek and laced with hopelessness. "Rebekah's right... I'm dying."

Ophelia swallowed. Those words were like a knife to her heart, "Davina..."

"I'm dying, and it's okay," she choked as she pushed herself up, her lips curling upward just slightly as Ophelia helped her, "I'll die whether I do this or not. I mean, now the only option is — is whether I take everyone with me. If you look at it that way, it's kind of selfish not to do it."

Ophelia shook her head, a broken smile dusting her lips as her eyes welled further. Marcel was in a similar state; his eyes were red and threatening to spill his own waterfall of tears over his cheeks. He looked damn near broken as he listened to the sixteen-year-old he had taken in speak as if she was well beyond her years; willing to give herself up sooner so that she could save the city.

Davina shifted so that she could see both of her caretakers, her guardians... her parents, "If this is all I have, I've had a lot. I had Monique, and I had Tim, and I had two people who fought for me from the moment they met me... Marcel, I knew from the second I saw you that you'd save me and I've trusted you ever since... you —you're my dad, you did what he was supposed to do; you protected me and loved me, and I can't thank you enough for that."

Ophelia could see Davina's heartfelt words chipping away at Marcel, every word cut into him until the dam broke and the tears came through. They didn't slowly trickle, no, they gushed down his sienna cheeks and dripped off his chin, small splatters gathering in a puddle on the cold floor. Whilst he had used the young witch, Ophelia knew that it was for good reasoning, to him anyway, he used her magic to keep away the witches, and to protect the city. A valid reason. But even so, he still wished to repent, get on his knees and profess how wrong he was and beg her not to leave them. But it was no longer a choice.

Davina's doll-like face turned to Ophelia and the woman sucked in a breath, trying her best to prepare herself. The flushed witch smiled, her teeth on show before a sob took over, "Lia." she managed to choke out from her tight throat, "You saved us both... and I don't know anything about your past, nobody does, but I know that it must have been bad, you were... you were as cold as ice when we first met. I didn't get to see you smile for months and when you did... it was because of me, and I had never felt so... loved. I had managed to bring you happiness and that will always be my biggest accomplishment."

The entire room was filled with sniffles and sharp breaths. Nobody had a dry eye. Ophelia felt like she couldn't breathe, her breaths were just short bursts and her heart ached so much. She had found somebody she cared for and now they were leaving too. 

"You're my big sister, Lia. You had sleepovers with me, you helped me keep my magic controlled even if it hurt you and you were just... you were there, whenever I needed you... and I know you need me too... if —" Davina paused, a shudder wracking her spine, "— If this doesn't work —"

"— Davina —" Ophelia shook her head, almost manically before Davina grabbed her hand and spoke again.

"If this doesn't work, don't go back to who you were. Don't be sad or angry, be happy. For me. Please."

Ophelia blinked, fresh tears falling from her blurry whiskey eyes. Davina really had no idea what she was asking of her, did she? How could Ophelia not be sad or angry if she didn't come back? That just wouldn't be possible. The girl was her rock, in a sense, her emotions had been able to come back to the surface after so many years of being buried, happiness sparked inside of her around the tiny witch, how would she be able to carry on as if nothing had happened? Davina was the reason she wasn't such a hollow shell.

But the look in the witch's eyes begged her to promise. And Ophelia could never say no. She took a moment to swallow the burning lump in her throat, afraid that her words would get caught and break before even having the chance to roll off her tongue. "I'll try my best."

Davina's head bobbed up and down her eyes flicking between the two who had been by her side, "Most people don't get to have this, even if they live to be a hundred, I love you both."

"I love you too, D, you know that. I always will." Marcel's voice cracked as he tried to reign his emotions in.

Ophelia squeezed Davina's hand, wiping her tears away with the other as she spoke a set of words that she hadn't in a long time, "I love you too. So much."

The grin on Davina's face would have made her look as if somebody had brought her a puppy, it was all teeth and lifted her cheeks high, yet the streaks where her tears ran were prominent, her eyes were swollen and red. She exhaled a deep breath. "I'm ready."

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13/02/2021