𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 — the quest for peace

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𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 a couple, and yet without Rebekah Mikaelson filling the compound with her infectious chimes of laughter, her fluttering eyelashes and sarcastic comments — that were more often than not directed to the infamous Klaus Mikaelson — it seemed as if the months were really years. She was a light, and even though Ophelia knew that the girl was happy and finally had her freedom inside a manicured grasp. Ophelia did miss her.

They spoke on the phone, a lot. They would video chat, their laughter ringing out throughout the abattoir which would often draw forth Elijah's presence. He would join Ophelia's side, a rather carefree smile adorning his thin lips as he conversed with his sister that he missed oh so dearly.

Now, Rebekah and her beautiful set of eagle-like eyes could clearly see the difference within her brunette friend; the woman was open, relaxed and more carefree than ever. She could see the lingering looks between the siphon and her older brother, just as she could before. All she could think was, 'dammit Elijah, get the girl already', but alas, the noble stag never made a move bar from the soft touches and light pecks on the brunette's cheeks and foreheads as a greeting or a goodbye.

Of course, unbeknownst to them all, a certain hybrid would keep an ear on their conversations. A small twitch of his lips would occur with every melodic laugh of his baby sister, a stifled chuckle whenever Rebekah would simply demand that she and Ophelia would have to soon meet up with one another as they had 'things to discuss' though Ophelia would express her confusion and Rebekah's voice would turn teasing as she evaded any and all questions of the matter.

The months that passed were void of Davina; Marcel had sent her running along with her fellow witches in hopes that the young girl would overcome the demons inside her mind. Despite the young witch no longer possessing the power that she once did, Ophelia knew that Davina was the strongest of the Harvest girls to return. She had to be. After everything she had gone through, after every battle she had won... Those demons that battled her thoughts, the evil words of the ancestors... They were just another fight that Davina was sure to win. She may have just been a teenager but Ophelia knew that Davina Claire was more than she seemed.

She missed her, god did she miss her little witch.

But the witches that had 'taken her in' held her in a tight and close grip, one that was not willing to falter for anyone let alone a lowly siphon. Ophelia trusted that Davina would be alright; she was a strong girl and the witches would need all the magic they could get their grubby hands on.

Of course, after the events that transpired and Celeste gave the wolves what they wanted; freedom and the ability to walk on two legs rather than four furry ones, Hayley followed Rebekah's leave and vacated the compound, choosing to live with her kind.

Ophelia would trudge her way out into the bayou, willingly covering her ankles and calves in mud to see the wolf she had grown so close to. They got along like a house on fire... Which was most certainly a bad pun, given the situation the siphon and the wolf had found themselves in previously. 

Their personalities were similar; both were headstrong and stubborn, but deep under the icy outer layer that surrounded their hearts... there was kindness that radiated to those they cared for. The wolves were hesitant to allow a 'witch' into their midst every week, but the alpha himself; Jackson, told his people that she had saved one of their kin, that she had used her abilities despite the hardships her body had faced and even saved him from burning alive. After that, all but one welcomed Ophelia.

Oliver did not. His face would contort with every word she spoke and yet he never dared to speak against the alpha's words and the invitation that was extended to the brunette. The animosity that flowed from the runt was simply brushed to the side by Ophelia who, rather than worrying about what the little pup thought of her, opted to cherish the time with her friend and the steadily growing baby bump that the she-wolf soothed with light words and careful touches.

The fire that had encapsulated Ophelia, Hayley, and Jackson was of course a ploy to separate the Mikaelson siblings, but it had also been a way to keep Ophelia away from other things; such as father Kieran. He had been cursed much like his nephew Sean, Cami's twin brother, who had eventually gone mad and slaughtered nine of his fellow seminary students before finally tuning a blade on himself.

Father Kieran was to suffer the same fate.

Ophelia had been plucked from the midst of battle and shoved inside a burning building, away from those she could have assisted. The hex upon Kieran was one that needed little time to take root and slowly rot the mind. The time that Ophelia had been gone for was more than long enough for the hex to dig its claws within the priest and ensure that his own subconscious would slowly betray him. No amount of siphoning could undo mental afflictions; she could take away the small mark that marred the skin of his hand... But there was nothing to be done, nothing that could be siphoned or changed with magic. His mind had been tainted, and it could never be undone.

It was tragic that the man was to suffer the same fate as his nephew, that he too was to spiral out of control and endanger those around him; a man of faith, justice, and kindness to be subjected to such torment was an omen indeed.

Ophelia, despite lingering anger towards Klaus for some of his dastardly actions, well she had grown closer to the hybrid, she would sketch whilst the original swiped multitudes of beautiful colors over his canvasses. He would mutter as he painted — a habit she supposed — small muses and whispers of what color would work well with another, how the light would shine and illuminate certain areas of his artwork. 

It was odd really, the big bad hybrid painting away masterfully as a fellow abomination sat on the couch behind him, legs crossed beneath her with either sketches of beautiful clothing or old books resting upon her lap.

Not to mention the few times where Ophelia would play the piano in the more 'communal' area of the compound and Klaus would heave his easel, paints, and brushes into the same room, his ears eager to capture the melodic notes as his skillful fingers brought images to life with mere strokes of a brush. The two had a fondness for one another, though due to the pair both being rather stubborn, they wouldn't admit it.

It was clear to Elijah, that the bond of the siphon and the hybrid had grown, even without words being exchanged. He supposed the two saw themselves in one another; Ophelia was calm and collected, but her façade could rapture and shatter, releasing the beast that Klaus would so openly exhibit.

Speaking of Elijah; both he and Ophelia had spent the majority of their time with one another. He was an original, his body swimming with magical energy that was ripe for siphoning and he had gladly offered the woman a hand in helping her develop her abilities further. He had plucked dusty and crumpled spell books from the multitudes of shelves within his study and watched as Ophelia made herself comfortable on the couch, her dark and alluring eyes sweeping over the pages with utmost focus and interest.

Much like the dynamic between Ophelia and Niklaus; Ophelia would read and practice spells whilst Elijah did whatever the noble original needed to do at his desk, or, more often than not, he'd sit opposite her, a book of his own clutched in his large hands; the pair reading in a comfortable silence.

The two had grown exponentially closer, and the comfort that Ophelia felt when around the suited man was strange to her. She felt... safe, that somebody would protect her rather than make her protect herself. He was as courteous as ever, soft touches here and there, though his eyes would always be on hers to gauge her reaction, to make sure that she was comfortable... and she always was.

Whilst silences were comfortable and touches were reciprocated, the two still remained at arm's length. Elijah was smitten. That much he himself was certain of. He found the siphon capturing his attention with every word, look or touch; he was unable to tear her fair face from his thoughts. But, as displayed through the memories that resurfaced and were made visible, Elijah Mikaelson, despite the clean suits and noble stance; well he was just as shattered, broken and bent as the brother that he tried so hard to mend. His heart had been tossed around and torn apart too many times. The people he loved died, and they died bloody.

But... he could see the bond between the woman he cared for and the brother he tried to keep on a leash; that was something that had never happened before. The women he allowed into his life, the women that his heart sought after were often repulsed by the hybrid, scared of him. Yet Ophelia Parker, despite the evil doings of Niklaus Mikaelson... still had a soft spot for the king of the Quarter.

He knew that Ophelia Parker could be the one to defy the odds; she already had. She fit in with his family and treated them as if they were her own. It was strange really; for the Mikaelson's to have somebody else care for them and risk their life for them. Their egos and mild arrogance would never allow them to speak of it... but they truly appreciated her actions, they were thankful.

Now, for the last few weeks, Ophelia and Elijah had shared far more looks than usual. Though they were not the kind one might think; disgust was amongst the looks as they came across stray pieces of lingerie and discarded heels that belonged to none other than Genevieve; the very same Genevieve that had carried out the malicious plan to tear the Mikaelson's apart, the same that had a hand in burning their old home, the same that had flooded Ophelia's veins with witch hazel and beat her to a pulp. 

Yes, Niklaus Mikaelson had brought the wicked witch into his home, and into his bed.

Ophelia had bumped into her one morning, and to say it had been awkward was certainly an understatement. The redhead had been parading around in nothing but her underwear and Ophelia's eyes had almost rolled into the back of her head at the thought of having to talk to Genevieve in general, let alone when the witch was almost naked. Genevieve had given a smile... More so a grimace as she came face to face with the siphon who was no longer bruised or trapped inside her own mind.

There had been a beat of silence, followed by another and yet another before finally, Ophelia had enough and skirted around the witch, a smirk forming on her glossed lips as she called out, "You look better with your clothes on." before disappearing into Elijah's office, grinning at the chuckle he was so poorly concealing.

Something similar had occurred weeks later, in the present; Elijah had spent the better part of an hour spouting off about how his baby brother needed to step up and run the city, accept the responsibilities that came with the throne Klaus had craved so badly. But of course, Nik was sulking, the hole that Rebekah had left behind was chewing away at the hybrid more than he'd ever admit.

And so, when Elijah who was accompanied by Ophelia, approached Niklaus about his neglected responsibilities and didn't get the response he desired, Elijah turned to other tactics. The noble original had lowered his tone "If you can so easily neglect your home, I wonder what will become of your daughter. Have you forgotten what it was like to live beneath the threat of violence? We must work together, Niklaus. Let's make this city whole again."

Ophelia rolled her eyes at the two, their need for the dramatics never ceasing to tire her; and Elijah did just as Ophelia believed he would do.

He took things into his own hands.

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Elijah didn't hesitate in putting his plan into action, and he involved Ophelia as he did so. He wished to bring New Orleans to peace; he wanted to unite the factions of vampires, witches, and humans... and as he explained that to the siphon, she couldn't help but notice that he had left out any and all mention of the wolves that resided in the woodland not too far from them.

Ophelia had brought this up, and Elijah simply evaded the question, he didn't believe that his plan presently concerned the wolves, and Ophelia, somebody who had grown rather fond of Hayley's little pack, thought different. The moment Elijah had left the room, Ophelia had her phone clutched in her hands, pale-pink painted nails darting across the screen as she sent the pregnant werewolf a text, letting her know of the meeting.

She was interfering, but Ophelia wouldn't be Ophelia if she didn't do what she wanted, when she wanted; especially in situations that affected the few people she genuinely cared for.

The siphon couldn't keep the small upturn of her lips concealed, she stood in the entranceway of St Anne's church where Elijah was to hold his meeting with his small gaggle of witches, vampires, and humans. Ophelia herself had offered her own signature to Elijah; he wanted peace, and he'd never get it from the others if she didn't agree to it. All of the factions had a 'reason' to despise her. Vampires hated witches and they counted her as one, humans hated... well everyone who wasn't a human; their fear inspired rage, and as for the witches... well, it was obvious why they hated Ophelia.

So, she had told Elijah that she would sign whatever treaty he was to come up with, all for the sake of his vision of peace and prosperity.

Elijah's choices for faction representatives left a bitter taste in the siphons mouth, she could completely understand why they were chosen; Genevieve was an old and powerful witch, one that was in the good graces of the ancestors, one that was teaching the Harvest girls all things magic. Diego, though incredibly arrogant and insufferably irritating, had a large following; he had been close with Marcel and henceforth, gained respect from the other vamps of the city. And Father Kieran was well respected throughout New Orleans; even by many supernatural beings, he was fair and just.

Father Kieran introduced the meeting, his eyes reserved as he glanced over each of the supernatural beings before him, "St. Anne's has long been neutral ground in our city. So, it's only fitting that we gather in this chamber at the behest of Elijah Mikaelson to bring harmony to this place we call home. Thank you all for coming." he quickly summed up and took a seat, willing Elijah to take over.

"Yes, thank you for coming." Elijah greeted, tearing his eyes away from the piece of parchment that was held in his hands; Marcel's old rules, he lifted the paper for all eyes to see, "And welcome. These are the rules of the city according to Marcel Gerard." with a single, swift movement, the paper was torn in two, "Which, of course, no longer apply, because I'm in charge."

Of course, it was Diego who first spoke his mind, "You said that if we came along, that we would get to run things by ourselves. Never mentioned anything about making yourself king."

"Well, you were each selected to represent your own communities. In our honor, however, any issues that arise between factions, it will come to me." he stated firmly, and Diego leaned back in his chair, mildly satisfied, "Now, we are all responsible for the current chaos in the city. However, you have one very, very simple choice ahead of you here: you can all play nicely together, or you can leave."

Elijah's eyes bypassed those who sat at the old and chipped table before him, watching as Ophelia entered at the moment they had agreed on with utter elegance that he, as ever, marveled at. Those at the table bristled; especially Diego and Genevieve. Before either could say a word towards the woman who swiftly joined the original's side, Elijah spoke up.

"Perhaps you need a role model, footsteps to follow?" His tone was somewhat teasing, he was riling them up and belittling them with the perfect source, a siphon. "Ophelia Parker, the resident siphon of New Orleans has promptly given her word to respect whichever agreement we are to come to, her signature is promised."

"It is." Ophelia began, her hands clasped together in front of her, "Each of you sat at this table has a group of people that you wish to protect. You each hate me, whether for valid reasons —" her gaze drifted from Diego to Genevieve, "— or not. But I will sign the treaty, I will respect Elijah's wish for peace in this city, even if I have nobody to protect myself... The only question is; will you do the same?"

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Ophelia almost thrived in chaos, though it of course did irritate her at times; the members from each faction had somehow accepted Ophelia's involvement, something she believed was simply down to fear of whatever she would do to any of them. This, of course, was true, but not only did the faction leaders agree due to the fear of seeing Ophelia revert back to the cold and empty woman they had all witnessed just months prior, but also because it got her out of their way.

She was with the Mikaelson's now, she was a valued ally — no, she was a valued friend to the family of originals; and that made her more dangerous than she already had been.

She had simply leaned herself against one of the pews, her eyes closing with a roll as the group continued to argue and scream at one another. It seemed that the witches wanted an area of their own, where no other faction could enter, and as expected, Diego scowled and demanded that they should all be able to go wherever they wanted. Father Kieran had dragged a hand down his tired and stubble covered face, muttering that they weren't getting anywhere.

Ophelia's whiskey eyes snapped open as Elijah's voice echoed throughout the church, low and demanding them into silence. Thankfully for both himself and Ophelia, those at the table submitted.

"Thank you. Now returning to the issue of boundaries, you will all heed to the following —"

The doors of the church flew open, and Ophelia had to suck in her lips at the sight of a furious and very pregnant Hayley Marshall storming into the building. "— Are you serious? You're dividing up the city, and the werewolves don't even get a say?"

Diego shot up, his hands slamming on the table before he pointed towards the wolf with malice, "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Diego, sit. We are not dividing the city. We're establishing boundaries —"

Hayley huffed, cutting Elijah short, "No, Elijah! There is not gonna be a peace if the werewolves are excluded. They want a seat at the table." her jaw clenched as the sound of Diego and Genevieve scoffing in unison reached her ears, "And if they don't get one, I can guarantee that you will all regret it."

Once again, raised voices filled the air. Ophelia sighed out as she made her way towards Hayley, nodding for the wolf to move to the side. Elijah joined the two, his eyes on Ophelia, "This was your doing?"

"She deserved to know, Elijah. Her people are stuck out there in a swamp because people — vampires, drove them out of the city and had them cursed. The least you could do was invite one of them to this meeting, you didn't, so I did."

A deep sigh escaped the original as he scolded himself; he shouldn't have thought that Ophelia would simply and happily go along with leaving Hayley and the other wolves out of the plan. The siphon and the wolf had grown close, despite Hayley being missing from the compound, it was obscenely obvious that Ophelia would alert Hayley.

So, rather than get into an argument that he would ultimately lose, Elijah turned his gaze towards the wolf carrying his brother's child, "Do you have any idea what it took just to get those people in one room together?"

"No, actually, I don't!" Hayley exclaimed with narrowed eyes that showed her blatant anger, "Because I didn't even know what you were doing out here until Ophelia told me. Tell me something, Elijah. Did you leave the werewolves out because of me?"

"I excluded them because they no longer reside in the French Quarter. My immediate concern is to end the mounting conflict here. Now, I can assure you once this treaty is solidified, it will expand to include your people."

"And until then, I should tell them what? Sit? Stay? Roll over?"

Both women recoiled slightly as Elijah rose his voice, far louder than those who were still squabbling behind them, "I would prefer that you remove yourself from the process altogether!" his eyes lowered, regret forming as the words burned the air. He could feel the glares from both Ophelia and Hayley scorching his skin.

"She's pregnant, not helpless, Elijah." Ophelia hissed. She knew full well what Hayley was capable of when she set her mind to something. The wolves in the bayou were her family, something she never thought she would ever obtain... she simply wanted them to have good lives, prosperous and comfortable ones. They deserved more than sleeping in a swamp, especially after all they had suffered.

Hayley nodded towards Ophelia; she knew the siphon would stand up for her, and her newfound family, which is exactly why the wolves had taken to her; she and Hayley were a pair, no matter where they lived.

With a final glance between the original and the siphon, Hayley turned on her heel, "The wolves deserve a voice. Give them one. You know it's the right thing to do."

Ophelia and Elijah watched the young and stubborn mother-to-be take her leave. Ophelia tilted her head to the side, her voice clear as she spoke, "She's right. I didn't tell her about this to go against you, I told her because those wolves are her family and she wants a better life for them. You'd do the same for your siblings, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. I would."

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17-05-2021

so, in celebration of this story hitting 100K, i've decided to give you all another update!

thank you all so much for the constant love and support on this story, it means more than you could ever know.