𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 — the move for power

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𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 crawling; begging her to go and check up on Hayley, Jackson, and Eve herself. But she trusted Elijah implicitly, and she knew he would do whatever he could to ensure they survived and were protected from further harm.

For now, she had to force herself to keep focused on the situation at hand; once again she had shocked the poor priest until he had lost consciousness. When he had awoken from the first round of shocks; he had said something coherent and that was enough for Cami to nod to Ophelia to continue. So she did.

She stayed with Joshua and Dr Sheski, watching as the two chatted between themselves as Klaus and Camille made their way downstairs. The doctor seemly couldn't decide what to focus on; the siphon who had willingly stepped up to shock a priest, the vampire who was ogling his daylight ring, or the priest that was slumped in the chair.

The doctor crept forward, his eyes sparkling with intrigue as he moved closer to the priest.

Joshua snapped out of his own little fantasy as he cleared his throat, "Um, I wouldn't stay that close to him if I were you. He's kind of unpredictable... and murder-y."

The doctor, however, simply straightened, his gaze still upon the bound man, "This is fascinating. Would it be possible to speak to the witches responsible?"

"No." Ophelia scoffed, her eyes rolling at the doctor's request. "You can't."

The room settled into silence, Joshua offering Ophelia a small, awkward smile as he met her eyes, and for some reason or another, it actually made Ophelia smile. The boy was just a stumbling, awkward mess. It was adorable.

The short silence that each of the three seemed to be enjoying came to a rather abrupt end when something akin to a roar spilled from Kieran's lips; his eyes snapping open as he almost foamed at the mouth like a rabid dog.

He jerked forward and tore away at his own thumb with his teeth, causing the restraints that held him to the chair to become completely useless.

Ophelia shot forward at the same time Joshua did; the vampire managing to use his strength to keep the rabid priest from getting his bloodied fingers on the doctor.

"Hey!" Josh yelled, knowing Klaus would hear his frantic tone, "Little help in here?"

It took Klaus mere moments to rush up and grab Kieran. The priest thrashed in his grasp causing Klaus to roll his eyes as if he were only holding a small childing throwing a tantrum. He dragged the man towards the dusty bed that was tucked away towards one of the walls and threw him down, keeping a hand on Kieran's chest as the man squirmed and thrashed.

When Cami made her way through the door of the attic, her face and shoulders fell. Seeing her uncle in such a state was tearing at her; he was always a calm and collected man, seeing him screaming and thrashing... It made her want to do the exact same thing.

Ophelia padded over to the bartender, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder and stepping back as Cami turned and pulled the woman into a hug, "Thank you for being here."

"Of course."

⋆⋆⋆

They had managed to sedate the thrashing man, and he laid limp on the bed; almost looking peaceful for the first time in a while.

Ophelia knew there was nothing more they could do to the man, nothing they could do to help; magic and 'medicine' were doing nothing. And though she wouldn't say it aloud, for Cami's sake, Ophelia knew that Kieran didn't have long.

She made her way down the creaking stairs, neither Josh nor Camille noticing her departure, though Klaus followed, "Where are you off to little thief?"

"There's nothing else that can be done, Nik." Ophelia dragged a hand down her face; what a trying day it had been. "I'm going to the bayou to check on the wolves, stay with her?"

His cerulean eyes softened at the fatigue that laced Ophelia's voice; she always seemed to be dead on her feet, and it wasn't surprising. The second he, Elijah, Hayley, or anyone else called, Ophelia would be there, ready and waiting to do whatever they needed her to do.

And again, despite being unable to help, Ophelia had come to be with a friend, to simply stay by her side and offer all of the support she could. It seemed that with every passing day, the siphon was changing, her shell shattering and allowing her true self to come to light.

She was still sarcastic, witty, and rude at times, but she was no longer the cold-hearted woman that strolled around New Orleans with a stoic face. She smiled, she laughed, but despite that, she could still hold her own. Nobody underestimated her, for they knew what she could do.

She was still quick to anger, and terribly stubborn, but that was who she was. Those things would never change.

Klaus saw her every day, each morning the two would sip on a cup of piping hot tea whilst they chatted... That is, if she was left to wake up on her own. If not, well the boys certainly got an earful.

But Klaus could see the changes in her immediately.

But not only her, his brother too.

Elijah was... Elijah; he was a man who kept his own demons under a lock and key. His façade was made up of his fine suits and noble demeanor; obscuring the deadly beast that lurked just below the surface. But his brother who often had a rather large and obnoxious stick lodged up his ass, well he too was more open.

He hadn't changed as much as Ophelia; but the woman made him laugh with her blunt comments and witty retorts, and Elijah even nodded along with them, backing her up. It was a sight to see, especially when Ophelia had called Klaus and whore and Elijah had simply agreed. What a time.

Klaus would never have thought that Ophelia would have become such a vital part of their dynamic, he never thought that he would consider her... A friend.

"Don't worry about Camille," he spoke, his voice as calm as a still lake, "Go to the wolves, see to it that your friends are alright, and Ophelia?"

"Hm?"

"Stay safe."

"Didn't know you cared Nik."

"Oh, piss off."

⋆⋆⋆

The bayou was in disarray.

Despite the sun steadily going down, Ophelia could see how the ground was charred from the bombings and the fire that had engulfed parts of the land, items from some of the homes were discarded on the ground, broken and burnt. Those who were unharmed were carefully carrying their friends and family to shelter, somewhere they could rest and heal.

They were lucky. Their healing would eventually kick in; any cuts, scrapes or burns would heal and left in their wake would be flawless and healed skin, nothing left to remind them of the tragedy.

For those who did not trigger their curse; well they were stuck to healing as any human would; slowly and painfully. One of such people was Eve.

The second Ophelia's shoes began to trudge through the foliage, leaves crunching beneath her, Elijah had appeared, able to hear her coming. He could see the worry on her face, "Ophelia."

"How are they?" she didn't bother to settle for pleasantries, instead cutting to the chase at the grim tone of the man's voice. Just his sight alone was able to offer a shred of comfort, but even so, her hands twitched by her side; she needed to see them.

His silence was an answer enough.

Elijah didn't know what he could say; between the time of their phone call to right then; Eve had passed. It seemed to everybody that her wounds had been too much for her body to handle; she was mortal with no werewolf healing to help restore her body. She laid still in the shack she had been placed with Jackson by her side.

He had never let go of her hand.

Elijah knew what the wolves meant to not only Hayley but to Ophelia too. Both would be devastated to hear the news of their friends passing. He knew that Eve had become somewhat of a guide for Ophelia; she spoke wise and kind words and allowed the siphon to feel accepted within their group.

His steps were small, slow and hesitant as he approached the siphon whose eyes had never left his form; they were practically begging him to share a shred of good news, and it weighed heavily on his shoulders that he could not.

He lightly touched her arm, hoping to soothe the pain his words would cause, "Hayley left earlier... And Eve has... Succumbed to her wounds. She's passed, I'm so sorry."

There was that feeling again. The tightening of her chest, the thudding of her heart, the stinging of the eyes. Grief was rearing its ugly head and Ophelia almost wished that she couldn't feel; that she was the stone-cold woman people described her to be.

But she wasn't.

It was a cover to protect herself from disappointment. It was a shield.

A shuddering breath tumbled from her lips, her hand flying up and landing on Elijah's; delicate fingers grasping around his own. "I want to see her."

He didn't dare let go of her hand, instead offering all the warmth he could as he nodded with sympathy that clouded his eyes, "Of course."

They walked in silence; some of the wolves offering short and strained smiles or nods of the head towards the siphon that they had become rather acquainted with as she and Elijah slowly pushed forward until they stood before the shack.

It seemed unharmed by the bombings, not a single char on the wood to be seen and yet Ophelia could easily picture the terrible scene that would await behind the creaky door.

Her grip on Elijah's hand tightened as her other palm pushed the door open, a high-pitched squeaking sound ringing out causing Jackson to raise his head. The man rose from his chair, though his hand was still tangled with Eve's cold one.

Jackson's eyes were tinged with red and unshed tears were ready to flow. "Ophelia," he called in a hoarse voice, and for once, he didn't bother to try and cover up his weakness before the noble original. He could see their hands that were locked together; neither willing to part.

He wasn't a stupid man; he could see the solace that the vampire offered the siphon, it was the deeply ingrained hatred of vampires that made him want to scowl, but he didn't. Elijah had been nothing but... Well, he had been accepting of the pack and slowly, thanks to Ophelia and Hayley, he had shown them all kindness.

Only then did Ophelia untangle her small fingers from Elijah's. Instead, she dug her nails into her scarred palms and held her head high despite the sharp pain going through her hands and heart as she approached Eve.

She uncurled her hands, a shaking finger hovering closer to the white-haired woman before she gently moved a strand of platinum hair that brushed Eve's pale cheek. She swallowed, her throat becoming dry as she averted her eyes.

Death was something she knew; she caused it. But only twice had death ever affected her and grabbed at her heart, squeezing it until she felt like she would burst.

The first was Davina, but the witch had come back to her.

And the second was now Eve. An untriggered wolf, who in the eyes of the world was somebody unimportant. She wouldn't be coming back.

Her brows cinched together at the sight of Jacksons trembling lips, and to her own surprise, her arms seemed to move on their own accord; gathering her newfound friend in a hug as he sobbed into her shoulder whilst her head rested on his chest; a small spot of his shirt dampening.

⋆⋆⋆

Ophelia and Elijah stood together towards the edge of the encampment; the light in the sky had faded as the sun fell, and now the moon was high in the night, a dark abyss surrounding, save for the small and twinkling stars.

A large bonfire had been lit, and the wolves had gathered around it to mourn those lost to the bombing.

That is until Oliver had seen an opportunity within his people's grief and sadness. He strolled out of the shack with a look on his face that Ophelia couldn't describe. He looked like the air Marcel exuded; overly-confident, cocky, and downright egotistical.

It was nauseating to watch as the runt of the litter strolled forward, head held high as if the man himself had covered his people, saving them from the bombs. He spread his arms and his annoyingly loud voice gathered the attention of those around him.

He spurted absolute nonsense as he tried to convince his people to fight back against the vampires; as if he knew it was a vampire's doing... When in fact, nothing had been confirmed.

Ophelia knew Hayley well enough to know that the she-wolf would have come to the same conclusion as she had earlier; he was the biggest contender to point a finger at. What Hayley didn't know, was that when Marcel preached his hatred to those who harmed children, he meant it. It was a redeeming quality of his.

But that of course crossed off the one person they thought would cause such a terrible event to occur. The vampires of the city knew better, they wanted peace too and weren't exactly in the position to deny Elijah's demands.

Oliver made a show, his arms flailing as he riled his fellow wolves.

"He's an idiot," Ophelia muttered, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the trunk of a tree, her attention moving to the small leaves that fell from their branches, happy to give her attention to anything other than Oliver.

Elijah hummed, his eyes narrowed on the wolf, "Yes. He is."

His gaze moved towards the siphon whose eyes were still looking up at the vine-like branches of the bald cypress tree that sheltered them from the chilly breeze. He could see, and almost feel, the annoyance she held for the runt; clearly coming to the same conclusion as he; Oliver was using the tragedy to gain power.

She had been quiet after they had left the shack that Eve laid in, and for once he was glad that she was taking a moment to process the loss she had experienced; rather than bottle it up, only to explode later. All he could do was stay with her, and pride blossomed upon the realization that she wanted his company through her mourning; he'd stay as long as she needed.

Ophelia snapped her head to the side as footsteps came to her ears, her body turning to find Hayley making her way over to the two.

"Ophelia, you came." Hayley sighed in relief before her attention was drawn towards Oliver's ever-growing shouts, "What's going on? What is he doing?"

"He's making a move for power in the wake of tragedy." Elijah paused, his eyes briefly flicking towards Ophelia. "He's not alone. There was another attack after you left."

"What?"

⋆⋆⋆

Both Ophelia and Elijah had stayed with Hayley as she mourned the loss of Eve, she and Jackson held one another in devastation as tears slipped down their cheeks.

Eve had been... Somewhat of a mother to Hayley; she helped the wolf get settled, she taught her their traditions, told her stories and helped to soothe the womans worried about motherhood.

And now she was gone.

The siphon and the vampire stayed until the light of the bonfire faded, leaving only the light of the shining moon.

Ophelia gave the two wolves her best, her condolences and her promise that she would be there for them whenever they needed her, before she finally asked Elijah to take her back to the compound, back home.

Now she found herself in the study; the room she seemed to always settle into. Its warmth was comforting, not a single breeze flowing past her as she at the table in silence whilst Elijah pottered about the room, pausing as Nik made his way inside.

"First Marcel's massacre, now bombs in the Bayou. I'll assume you're ready to give up this doomed treaty."

Nik was right, Elijah was ready to... Not so much give up the treaty, more... Plan ahead and choose a path that allowed them to avoid destruction. Ophelia knew as much; they had discussed such an event whilst they watched Oliver preach the vampire's destruction.

There really never would be peace in New Orleans. It was clear that the rift between the factions was far too wide to build a bridge and reconnect them. Wolves and Vampires had been at one another's throats for centuries; a treaty wasn't about to end a feud that had lasted lifetimes. It was ingrained too deep.

And so, Ophelia had suggested that they should follow Klaus; he was dastardly, but he was smart, and he always got what he wanted. All Ophelia had asked was that Hayley and Jackson would be away from whatever war was to follow them.

An alliance with the wolves. It was the best course of action.

"This alliance with the wolves, well..." Elijah spoke as he procured an old and aged book, one that Ophelia knew to be Esther's, "If it is to succeed, I believe you'll want this."

The siphon watched as Elijah made his way towards where the two were sat, knowing that Klaus was more than happy to take the book from his brother.

The hybrid eyed the leather-bound book with a gleam in his eyes, slowly moving his gaze to flicker between Ophelia and his brother, "Seems I have our resident siphon and Hayley to thank for your change of heart."

Elijah's lips twitched, his eyes sliding from the glass bottle of whiskey his hand had curled around, to the siphon on his left, only to find the woman already looking at him. He cleared his throat as he poured the amber liquid into three glasses, Klaus grabbing one, whilst sliding another to Ophelia who caught it swiftly, whilst Elijah replaced the bottle in his hand with the final glass.

The noble original held up his glass, "The rifts in this city run far deeper than I even imagined, Niklaus. These tribes, these factions — they're families, families who choose to fight. Mayhem has descended upon our home, and if I'm to choose a side..."

He held his glass out to Klaus; a toast, the liquid swirling with each tiny movement, "To our victory."

Before Nik could move his glass to clink it against Elijah's, his cerulean eyes focused on Ophelia who was staring down at the rippling liquid in her glass; her mind having gone back to Eve and the many injured wolves that Hayley and Jackson were no doubt tending to.

Nicklaus cleared his throat, gaining the woman's attention, "What say you, little thief?"

Her face was stoic for a moment before a smile curled at her lips, her hand raising her glass. Her eyes were settled on Klaus, "You'd be lost without me —" she moved her dark gaze to Elijah, the man smiling in amusement as he lowered his glass to her own, "— Both of you."

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03-07-2021

This is update 3, make sure you've read the previous updates!

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