𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 — the reunion

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 the church had been put on hold; Elijah had taken into account everything that both Ophelia and Hayley had said about including the wolves and went about concocting his next little plan. Ophelia had politely declined to join the man with whatever it is he was to do. Mingling was not her strong suit.

And so, instead, she opted to join Niklaus who seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood as he ushered her into the room that was filled with numerous canvases, paints, and brushes. Sketches were piled up on a desk, old and new, some turning yellow on the old and creased papers. His hands were covered in splatters of pain, from electric-blue to periwinkle-purple.

For a short while, Ophelia simply watched the man as he managed to bring his painting to life, swipes of his brush adding dynamic colors and contrast before she finally settled on selecting a book from the vast array that lined the walls of the room; her hands seemed to gravitate towards those she had already read itching to pluck out a story with an ending she already knew; a habit she supposed. Knowing an ending... whilst some may have seen it as boring, she saw it as a means to no surprises, she knew how everything would play out.

"If you pick up Hamlet again, I might just drive this brush through your little beating heart." Klaus spoke up, his eyes never straying from his painting, though his lips certainly curled into his trademark smirk.

Ophelia chuckled, her fingers delicately dancing along said story's spine; it was old and creased from having been read so many times, its words digested over and over by so many sets of eager eyes. "Fine, I won't re-read the story of my namesake drowning to death, why do you like to spoil my fun?"

"Drowning is your idea of fun?"

"Perhaps."

Klaus scoffed in amusement, "No, you're far too much like me to see drowning as fun, drowning in blood perhaps..." he trailed off, genuine interest sparking in his eyes.

"Mm, sounds lovely." Ophelia rolled her eyes, her hands finally settling on pulling an old grimoire from the shelf, "You think I'm like you?"

"Well, we're both abominations, are we not? You have a beast lurking inside of you, we've seen it... Though I for one would like to see it in full swing. I bet you could be absolutely monstrous."

"I can be."

Klaus perked up at the ominous... Almost reminiscent tone of her voice. His paintbrush was carefully discarded, bristles meeting the murky water he used to clean his utensil, "Oh! Do tell, little thief."

There was that name again. Truth be told, Ophelia was actually growing rather fond of it... she was a thief; she stole magic from others... lives sometimes. "Nobody told you?"

"Told me what, love?"

"I'm just as dastardly as you."

And that, that was the beginning of a very long conversation; Klaus had been the last to know of the deeds Ophelia Parker had committed against her family, what had happened to her as a result, and how she had found herself in the city of New Orleans. She could make out the interest, the shock, and surprisingly... the sympathy that shone in Niklaus Mikaelson's electric blue eyes.

He knew what it was like to be cast aside by one's family. After all, Mikael, his father, hated him. Hated everything about him and wished to burn him to ashes. But he still had his siblings, he had Elijah by his side, and despite the quarrel, he knew Rebekah wouldn't hesitate to help her brothers if need be. Ophelia was alone, something about that made his shoulders sink.

The woman who had fought for his family, for his child, had none of her own. It was no wonder why Ophelia had told him that she didn't fear death, she had nothing, and when he had tried to poison Davina... he had almost taken away the only family she had left.

"We are abominations, Ophelia." Her name sounded strange coming from him, nicknames were something he always opted for when it came to the siphon, "But we are only what our parents made us. We are the product of their mistreatment."

"I know." there was a beat of silence. Both siphon and hybrid falling silent as they digested the somber tone. "I don't feel bad, you know, for what I did. They deserved it. They were horrible and we were prisoners... punching bags. It was like a switch flipped; the faces of people that had shown me and my brother love, they changed into monsters within seconds. I had never felt so scared when my father grabbed me and started dragging me away... When Kai — When he stopped my father from striking me that first time, I knew it was just me and him. It would be us, alone in the world... but I was wrong. They took him from me, and now we're both alone."

Klaus stood, unable to meet her eyes, a certain vulnerability shining in his own as he wrapped his fingers around a paintbrush, swirling the clean bristles into his paint. Whilst turning away could conceal his face, nothing could hide the soft tone he spoke with, "You'll always have a home with us, little thief."

Her lips slowly turned upwards, a soft smile resting on her face as she trained her eyes on Nik's back, his shoulders were tense, rigid, it clearly pained him to be so vulnerable in front of another, she knew the feeling. "Thank you, Nik."

"Nik? Rebekah tends to be the only one to call me that."

"Well, I like it."

Before Klaus could find a suitable response, his ears caught the light sound of another vampire appearing in the room, entirely unnoticed by Ophelia whose eyes had gone back to the words on the dusty pages of the book in her petite hands. Without turning his head, Klaus spoke to the visitor, his hand lifting his brush that was coated with a beautiful blue, "Not a fan of cerulean blue?"

Ophelia frowned, confused before Elijah's voice struck her ears, his velvet tone mildly sarcastic as he addressed his brother; forcing himself to keep the conversation that he had heard between his brother and the woman his heart sought after in the back of his mind, "Not a fan of your continued indifference."

"Well, it's difficult trying to unite a community that has a history of mutual loathing."

As much as Elijah's quest for peace in the city was a noble one indeed, Ophelia herself — though she had agreed to sign whatever treaty was to be concocted — had to agree with Nik. The factions had been at war for years. The fighting had 'calmed' so to speak, once Marcel had control over the witches; after all, how could they have fought back? The wolves were under the control of the moon, and that had only left the humans, there was nothing they could ever do about the vampires in the city. Everybody was full of hatred and loathing; it would take more than a simple piece of paper to bring the factions together.

"Spare me the platitudes, Niklaus."

Klaus clicked his tongue, tearing his eyes from his painting and finally setting down his cerulean covered brush, "A perspective, then? If you want peace, you must begin with the werewolves. A hundred years ago, they had a run at ruling this city. As of late, all they've had is time to watch their enemies tear down that legacy."

Elijah's eyes drifted from Klaus to Ophelia who rose a brow as if to say 'I told you', a light sigh escaped him, creases appearing on his forehead as he frowned, "All the more reason why their enemies are reluctant to bring them to the table."

"Take a page from Bienville, brother." Klaus reminded his elder, eyes flashing with the past as he reached a hand to squeeze Elijah's shoulder, "If the table's the obstacle, remove it."

Ophelia tilted her head, still seated on the couch with her ever darkening eyes trained on the brothers. Seeing them bringing themselves together, using battle strategies and reminiscing of the past... it tore at her heart that all she could picture were herself and Malachai in their place.

The clinking of glasses snapped her out of her somber visions; Klaus had wrapped his paint-smeared hand around the neck of a bottle of fine wine. Crimson liquid was dutifully poured into three crystal glasses, one distributed to his brother who took it with an elegant movement before Klaus passed the other to Ophelia who took it into a hand and sipped away, her eyes still glued to the brothers.

"Do you recall in 1720, the Governor's desperation to secure our help to build the cities first levees?" Klaus questioned his brother, pausing to fill his mouth with aged wine, "We sat with him, and refused his offer, and so, he plied us with wine, with corseted women, and with raucous camaraderie until he had his yes."

Elijah's eyes trained on the rippling liquid inside the glass, his eyes glistening with mirth as his lips pulled into a small smirk, "Are you suggesting that I throw a party?"

Klaus simply grinned in response before taking a mouthful of wine; draining his glass. His electric-blue eyes drifted towards Ophelia and she could see the pure mischief dancing within them. "Ophelia, love, I take it you'll be arriving on my dear brother's arm?"

Her lips twitched; eyes concentrated on Klaus though she could see Elijah duck his head at his brother's interference. "Getting the wolves and vampires in a room for a night without a single death? Unlikely. Getting the wolves and vampires in a room with a siphon for a night? World war three. I think it's best we let them sort out their... differences... first."

"Then perhaps you'll save him a dance, hm?"

Her eyes slid to Elijah who stood in silence, his glass resting on his lips as he sipped his wine. A small smile grew on her lips, "Perhaps."

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The party Elijah had thrown was certainly in full swing.

Ophelia had kept to herself, not wanting the inevitable arguments and tiffs that would occur if she were to bump into any witch or vampire. She was almost certain that the entire compound would be covered in blood or promptly set alight.

So, rather than solidify another burning building, Ophelia had changed into an oversized sweater, keeping her leggings and fluffy socks on, and tucked herself away in Elijah's study with a book on her lap. Her head lightly nodded along to whichever songs she recognized; which was not all that many, she had missed out on nineteen years of 'pop-culture' after all.

The music had been shaking the building for around thirty minutes before a small series of knocks sounded out on the regal wooden door of the study. Ophelia sighed lightly, placing a small bookmark between the pages and setting the old book to her side, "Come in."

The door creaked open and in stepped Elijah looking just as handsome as ever. His suit was pristine, not a single crease or speck of dust to be seen, not that Ophelia was surprised by the fact. His chiseled features softened as his eyes landed on the siphon who seemed to be rather cozy and at home within his space; something that warmed him.

A grin threatened to erupt on Elijah's face as Ophelia rose a brow, a hand coming up to brush some of her hair over her shoulder. Elijah cleared his throat and leaned his body against the doorway, "When Niklaus asked if you would save me a dance you said 'perhaps'."

"I did."

"I have brought you... something... that I do hope will sway your answer to my favor." He spoke, rather vaguely before leaning back just slightly, his head poking out of the door with a small nod.

Ophelia's back straightened as a set of footsteps sounded out, light steps echoing on the wooden floor before finally, with a flash of brunette hair, Davina walked into the room.

The noble original observed the two with a light smile. The girls were frozen as they stared at one another.

Neither of the two could move. Their lips were parted and their eyes were steadily watering, Davina's already releasing a steady stream of tears before she finally flung herself forward and into Ophelia's awaiting arms.

Ophelia gripped onto the young witch with every ounce of strength she could muster. She could feel the warmth that flowed through Davina's skin, a welcomed feeling, especially compared to the coldness she had felt when Davina had died in her arms.

The young girl's shoulders bobbed up and down as she cried into Ophelia's shoulder, her periwinkle painted nails clutching at the sweater that covered Ophelia's frame; holding onto her sister as if she was her life-line.

Ophelia untucked her head from Davina's shoulder, her reddened eyes and tear smeared cheeks on full display for the suited original. Her plumped lips stretched into a wobbly smile that was directed towards Elijah as she mouthed her thanks; he nodded his head, warm brown eyes unable to look anywhere other than the moving scene before them.

Ophelia pulled back; her hands clamped on Davina's shoulders, "You have no idea how much I missed you."

"No more than I missed you." Davina choked out, fresh tears steam-rolling down her flushed cheeks.

"You're wrong. So wrong." Ophelia muttered, "I never thought I'd feel a loss so deeply ever again, but watching you bleed out in my arms, watching as your body stayed unmoving. It was a nightmare, Davina."

The little witch let out a harsh breath through her trembling lips, "I'm back, I'm back and I can't even spend time with you, it's not fair."

"Nothing ever is... despite the harsh treatment I get for being a siphon... not being able to see you is the worst of it. No harsh words or spiteful ploys could ever make me feel as hollow as I do without you, Sabrina. Don't you dare leave me again."

"I won't. I promise."

⋆⋆⋆

The girls had spent just ten minutes together, though it felt like seconds. Davina couldn't stay long, the witches would begin to notice and would most likely have dished out a punishment for the young witch for abandoning the 'peace party'.

It didn't matter to them. They cherished the small amount of time they had together; Davina promptly left out the part where she was tormented by the ancestors, how Monique had changed and how Davina had become the target of her vicious words and looks. No, the siphon and the teenage witch just sat tangled together, relishing that they were together again, if only for that short amount of time.

The sound of silence washed back over the room as Elijah escorted the young witch back to the ground floor where the lights swirled, people danced and the floor vibrated with heavy music. It seemed as though Davina's rather... standoff-ish attitude towards the noble original had simmered, she had smiled, a small tug of the lips, but it was a smile nonetheless; a thank you for bringing her back to Ophelia.

The siphon leaned back into the plush couch, a sigh leaving her lips as she ran a hand down her face, brushing away the sadness of seeing Davina leave once again.

Only when the floorboards creaked did Ophelia snap out of her stupor, her head turning to look over her shoulder as her eyes connected with Elijah's solemn ones. He made his way into the room, soft and slow movements, rather than his usual swift ones before he took to leaning just slightly against his paper and book ridden desk.

"I'm sorry that you only had such a short amount of time with Davina." He spoke, his voice parting through the silence in the room with care. "I'm afraid the witches may see Davina parting from them as a form of betrayal."

Ophelia stood, no words leaving her as she made her way towards him. The look on her face was something he had only ever come close to seeing; it was so full of warmth that he could almost feel it. Her cheeks were still flushed pink from her tears and her eyes were softer than he had ever seen as she made her way closer until she stood before him.

Elijah straightened, his form towering over her, though it wasn't intimidating at all. Ophelia stepped closer and slowly reached her right hand forward, clasping around his left and bringing them both up before she placed her left hand on his shoulder. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, still raw from tears, "You swayed my answer."

A breath of a laugh escaped his parted lips, his free hand slowly and carefully taking its place on her waist, pulling her closer as they slowly swayed to a song that most definitely wasn't slow, but neither of them cared.

"Thank you." Ophelia breathed, her eyes drifting from their interlaced hand and up to his ever-darkening eyes, "For bringing her."

"I believe I owe you for all you've done for myself and my family."

"Now you don't. That's repaid everything I've ever done for you."

Elijah sighed, his mind casting back to the day of the Harvest ritual. He could picture the heartbreak that was written on her face, the tears that never stopped flowing, the dead eyes that stared at him as she recalled her past. He'd do anything to never see such a sight again.

"Ophelia, after Davina's... passing... the fire inside of your eyes turned into nothing but a mere spark. You had no hope. As time passed, that spark built and grew into embers but nothing more. You changed. Davina is a source of your happiness; I'd do anything to see you happy."

I'd do anything to see you happy. 

Those words echoed inside of her mind like a mantra. She'd never felt so... cared for. Nineteen years of solitude. A family that had cast her to the side. And now, in the presence of one of the world's most renowned monsters; she could feel, and she could see the way that he cared.

She swallowed, her eyes moving from his face, "It's not just Davina. Rebekah, Hayley, Klaus even... and you." her gaze settled back on him, catching the gentle curl of his lips, "You helped me."

Her hand pulled free of his grasp, settling on his stubble covered cheek, the hairs prickling her skin as she pushed herself onto the tips of her sock-covered toes. Her lips softly met his cheek, lingering for a moment as uncertainty swirled inside of her stomach. She pulled back just slightly and wrapped her arms around his neck, and without hesitation, his own curled around her as she murmured, "So thank you, Elijah."

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29/05/2021

i thought i'd upload seeing as it's my birthday and i've uploaded on my birthday for the past couple of years, anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; it's probably one of my favourites due to the sweet interactions between Ophelia and Davina, as well as Ophelia and Elijah, let me know what you think!