Tristan's mind was not with his body that was drowning over and over again in the bottom of the sea. However, he was still suffering. He walked aimlessly around in a world that had no other life within it. He could do anything that he wanted there, but what was the point? No one was around to know that he ruled this world. He didn't rule over anyone, except himself.

Tristan sat alone in his chair, drinking a glass of the finest scotch, when there became spots in his vision. Before long, he became consumed in total darkness. He tasted blood on his lips. His lungs were clear of the water that once filled them and he could smell the scent of a human. His blue eyes opened to see a blurred image of a figure, wearing a long black robe with a hood.

"Ah, there you are." A young pale face came into view. The girl stood to her feet and offered him a hand. When Tristan hesitated, the young girl giggled, "I don't bite, sir."

Tristan sat up and took her hand, pulling himself up and straightening his soak and wet clothes. He stared at the girl with an unreadable expression as always. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I am a member of a coven called the Strix. My mother says that you used to rule it and her dying wish was that I release you. I don't begin to try to understand my mother or why she wanted you to be released, but this is the last thing that I will do for her. My name is Eliza, by the way." She explained, "But, I must be going now." She turned to walk away.

Tristan's lips perked up in a smirk. He sped behind the girl and snapped her neck, before biting into it and draining her quickly. He threw her lifeless body to the ground and wiped his lips. "My apologies. I was famished." He stepped over her and went about his way. Tristan's first thought was Aurora. After a change of clothes and another meal, Tristan went in search of his sister to no avail.

When he didn't find her, he went straight to the person that he thought would be responsible for her death. "Klaus Mikaelson." He called in a smooth calm voice. He wouldn't let Klaus see emotion from him.

Klaus' alarm raised when he heard the familiar voice. He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony over the courtyard. "Ah, Tristan.." He paused, smirking. "How is the sea this time of year?"

Tristan's eyes locked on Klaus.' No emotion showed on his face. "Where is my sister?" He asked, bluntly, "Is she dead?"

Klaus laughed. He walked down to be level with Tristan. "No, of course not. Death would be too easy. She's in a place where she can cause no harm to anyone. Would you like to join her?"

Tristan smirked, "Hm, so you took my sister. Does that mean that I can take one of your family? Perhaps, I will. Maybe, your sister. Perhaps, Hayley. Or, what about your daughter?"

That comment pushed Klaus over the edge and a bloody fight ensued. Klaus and Tristan were going to fight to the death, but a loud high pitched scream startled them, both. Klaus stood up first and looked in the direction of the scream. Tristan was second to stand to his feet.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Hope Mikaelson stepped between the two men to make sure that they wouldn't fight any longer. "This is insanity! It isn't necessary! If you two would act like civil beings, we could live in peace." Her blue eyes looked between Tristan and Klaus. They were pleading for a truce. A truce was not what she got, but the fighting ceased. Tristan backed away and left in the blink of an eye.

However, his mind didn't. Tristan had observed Hope's pleading blue eyes as she looked between him and her father. They were kind and she was beautiful. Tristan lay awake as questions ran through Tristan's mind. How was she so noble, despite her family's dysfunction? Why did she see neither of them for the monsters they were? It didn't matter. He decided that he would take her and hold her hostage until he got his sister back.

Tristan began watching her. The next morning, he waited for her outside of the house. She walked out the door in black pants, boots, and a striped sweater with a croched hat. Her car was last in the driveway, a blue Masaradi without a scratch. It was a model from a few years back and Tristan guessed that she was careful with her car. She let the top back and put her sun glasses on. Tristan could hear music flow through the speakers as she cranked the car. Hope plugged in her iPod and scrolled down to her favorite song. The radio began to pump out the lyrics to 'Heartbeat' by Carrie Underwood. Hope sang along. Her voice was as beautiful as the person singing the song. Tristan could decipher which was hers, immediately. As she drove down the road, out of New Orleans, she was in her own little world.

Hope arrived at a college, a few hours later. Tristan was still on her trail, but he continued to stay far out of sight. Her first class started at noon and ended around three. Then, she played Soccer. She was an impressive player. Judging by the look on the coaches faces, Tristan wasn't the only one who noticed. Hope encouraged her team mates and corrected them, when necessary. Tristan found himself smiling at her kindness. "She's an Angel." He thought and for half a second, he thought twice about kidnapping her.

After Soccer, Hope went into the Library. She studied history articles and books. Tristan observed what she wrote down about the articles. She was fascinated by wars, what caused them, and how they ended. It dawned on him why she was interested in the subject. She'd most likely been in a war of the supernatural for her entire life.

Upon following her home that night, Tristan discovered that Hope had nightmares. She sobbed in her sleep. Upon entering her mind, he discovered that she relived haunting memories; the killing of her mother as an infant, the bloody fighting of her parents, the witches terrorizing her and it went on. Unlike most people, who dream in the last few seconds of their sleep, she dreamed all night. Tristan felt it poke at his cold heart like a flower creeping through the hard desert ground.

He knew it was stupid of him, but he climbed in bed with her, careful not to wake her. He touched her head and brought her into a different dream. They were in Southern France. It was a cold dark night, but the castle lit up the sky. Tristan waited for her to enter the room and be announced. When Hope entered, she wore a blue dress that matched her eyes. She immediately locked eyes on him. "Hope of the Mikaelson household." The announcer called. Tristan smiled at her from across the room. He hoped that it wasn't a creepy smile. It must not have been, because Hope made her way over to him.

"My lady." He said as she approached, and brought her hand to his lips.

She stared at him for a long moment, before she spoke. "You're in my head, aren't you?"

Tristan's smile faded as he tried to play it off. "I do not understand. To what, are you referring?"

Hope searched his starry blue eyes as if she were searching his soul. A smile graced her lips. "My apologies, sir. I was only confused. You smiled at me from across the room as soon as I entered as if you knew me." She slipped her hand from his grasp.

"No. I am sorry. I don't believe I do know you..." He took her hand once more, "But, if I was allowed a dance, I'd be honored."

Hope nodded, "Then, I would be delighted to allow you a dance." She turned, not letting go of his hand and led him to the dance floor. They began a quick-paced dance and Hope giggled as Tristan spun her around. They danced through her dreams and for once, she was at peace all night. When she awoke, their were no bags under her eyes that had to be covered with make-up and throughout the day, she found herself smiling for no reason.

Finally, after a few weeks passed, the time had come for Tristan's plan to be put into action. He waited for the lights to be turned off in the room, before he crept past the tall men in black, that guarded the Mikaelson Manor, and climbed up onto Hope's balcony as he always did. He quietly opened the french doors and swiftly made his way over to the sleeping girl, but instead of slipping into bed with her as he always did, he covered her mouth and picked her up. She didn't wake until his hand went over her mouth. She attempted to scream, but it did no good. He kept his hand over her nose and mouth until she passed out from lack of air.

Klaus could sense something off. He rarely ever dreamed, anymore, but this particular night, he'd had a nightmare. He threw the comforter off of him and put his feet on the floor. He tiptoed down the hall to his daughter's room. When he looked in, he immediately noticed that she was not there. Klaus lost his mind searching the house for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He recruited Freya to do a locator spell, but it was blocked, leading Klaus to believe the witches had taken her. So, he waltz down to the cemetery and terrorized them until they were crying for mercy. No one knew anything. Klaus searched New Orleans for Hope, but she was gone, without a trace.

Tristan took her to an abandoned house across the Mississippi River. He tied her up and waited for her to awake.

Hope's eyes opened, a few hours later. Her vision was blurred, but only for a moment, before Tristan, who was having a drink, came into her focus. She should have been afraid, but she wasn't. She couldn't be, because every time she looked at him, she saw the man from her dreams. Hope decided that even if he wasn't the same, she'd show courage and kindness as she always did.

"You aren't afraid or crying for mercy, not even screaming to get vengeance. I'm surprised. Are you sure that you're Mikaelson?" He asked as he sat down in a chair in front of her.

"Why should I? If I were to cry for mercy, would you give me any? I think not. If I were to scream a vow of vengeance, would it make me feel better? No. So, why would I waste my energy on useless things?" Hope reasoned.

Tristan was stunned. The girl had wisdom passed her age, even passed her father's age. "You aren't aware of my capabilities, Hope. I will break your fearless demeanor. One way or another." He wanted to see her break. He wanted to see the Mikaelson come out in her. The torture began. Vervain, wolves bane, Tristan knew no mercy.

After three hours of cruel torture, Hope wasn't phased. She still didn't cry for mercy or scream words of hate. Even Tristan's extensive imagination was running out. He had taken his shirt off and he had broken a sweat. Hope was bleeding and soaked with sweat. Then, when Tristan thought that he couldn't take anymore, she looked up at him. A tear streaked down her cheek. Her blue eyes were...pained. "Every monster has good in them, Tristan. I refuse to believe that there isn't any in you. Kill me, if you must, but I'm the only person in the world, who refuses to see all of your bad, and none of your good." She began to sob from the pain.

Tristan was yet again stunned. He untied her and left the room. The lights in the house flickered on, staying for several minutes, then back off again. When he came back, he picked her up and took her to a warm bath. He stripped her down, aware that she was too weak to protest. and slid her down into the tub. The bathroom was lit with candles, leaving a glow on her skin. Hope stared at him. He stared back. Each searching the other.

"What makes you so sure that there's good in me? I just tortured you for hours and you think I have humanity?" Tristan asked.

"You are psychotic, no doubt, but that doesn't mean that you have no humanity. I've seen your humanity." Hope said.

Tristan fetched a sponge from under the sink. He began to wash her. His touch was gentle, soft, almost sweet. Hope perferred this to what she experienced earlier. After he was done, he helped her out. "You have seen my humanity?" He attempted to act as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"The dreams." She put her finger to his lip, before he could deny it. "June 14th. You fell asleep in my bed. I woke up to your arms wrapped around me, but I pretended to be asleep until you left. I thought that if you knew that I was aware of it, you'd stop."

Tristan smirked. He walked out of the bathroom and searched the house for something that she could wear. He came back with a white dress shirt and a pair of boxers. "It's all I have."

Hope shrugged and dressed herself. She had completely healed due to her hybrid nature. At Least that part of her wasn't contained. Her other parts, such as her werewolf side, and her witch side were under lock and key by Freya with her mother's plea. Hayley wanted Hope to lead a normal life, but even still, Hope's life was far from normal.

Hope walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, where Tristan was sitting by the fire place reading. She sat in the chair opposite of him, observing the book title. It was a fifteenth century classic that Hope loved.

"Accepting her love is like accepting a dance with the devil. You want it so badly that you'll give up anything for that quick promenade, she can make you gasp with her lips and she'll burn you with her touch. She's addicting, her love is addicting. It's no wonder why the devil was once God's favorite angel." Hope quoted.

For the first time, Tristan smiled genuinely. "You've read this?"

Hope nodded, "It's one of my favorites. An interesting love story."

"It is my favorite. I read it every other decade or so."

"My favorite part is when she declares her love for him after all those years and he turns her down."

"Why is that?"

"Because no one should have to wait forever for someone who can't make up their mind."

Tristan closed the book. He got up and grabbed her hand, pulling her up against him. "Where did you come from, Hope Mikaelson?" His cool breath swept across her lips as her heart sped up. She looked into his eyes and decided that she'd take the risk. Her lips met his and they began a dance for dominance, only stoping when Hope needed to breathe. She bit her lip and backed away. She turned and went upstairs, finding the first bedroom and locking herself in. She laid on the bed and grabbed a pillow, screaming into it. Did she really just kiss Tristan De Martel after he tortured her? "Gosh," She thought, "I'm as psychotic as he is." She knew it wasn't true and she didn't regret that kiss one bit, but she wanted to regret it. That counted for something, right?

Two weeks passed. Tristan and Hope got closer. Yet, every day Hope missed her family more and Tristan knew that he wouldn't be able to keep her much longer. She had become less of a hostage and more of a companion. Tristan never had childhood friends, but if he did, he imagined that this is what it'd be like. She knew the monster he could be, but chose to see the good underneath. But, just like Tristan thought, the situation didn't last. Eventually, all good things come to an end and one morning, it did. When Hope awoke, Tristan was staring down at her. He'd been watching her sleep. She got up, quickly, not saying a word. She sat in a chair with her head in her hands.

Tristan got up and took a knee in front of her to comfort her. "What is the matter?" He asked, lifting her head to look at him.

"I wanna go home. I wanna see my mom and dad and Marcel and Aunt Freya. I wanna wear my clothes and sleep in my bed." Hope sighed. For a long moment, Tristan was silent. He was hurt. He wanted her to stay forever. He thought about tying her up again. Then, to even his suprise, he said, "Go." He got up and left, before she did, not able to bare the thought of his house without her.

Hope had no clothes of her own. So, she made her way home in his clothes. She took the farey across the river and into New Orleans. Then, she walked home. She ran upstairs, took a shower, put on clean clothes, and went back downstairs. Her father was sitting at a table drinking, while Freya did another locator spell to find Hope. She was surprised when it worked, but knew it had to be off. "According to this, she's in this house." Freya sighed.

"That'd be correct." Hope spoke up. Everyone was startled. They attacked her with hugs and interrogated her about where she was. She made up a story about getting in the car and driving to New York, forgetting everything else. Ultimately, her family chose to believe her.

Weeks passed and Hope got back to her normal routine. Her life was just like it was before her 'kidnapping.' Well, almost. When night came and things got quiet, Hope lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, a faint ache in her heart. What was it about Tristan De Martel that she found so attractive and appealing? He was psychotic, but she couldn't get him out of her head. She hadn't seen him since the day she left and she missed him. She missed his expensive cologne that smelled so good when he was closer than she should have allowed. She missed the crooked smile he gave her when he thought she was being funny. Most of all, she missed the way he looked at her like she was the only other person in the world. Or, atleast, the only one who mattered.

One morning, after a while of sleepless nights, Hope rose from her bed and crept downstairs and out of the door. Hope needed fresh air. She walked the streets of New Orleans, trying to clear her head, but found herself searching through the crowd for his face. Suddenly, someone put a hand over her mouth and pulled her into a back alleyway. Hope turned to see a man she recongnized only from Elijah's negotiations to keep the peace with the new pack of werewolves that had come to reside in the bayou.

"Well, if it isn't Klaus' pretty little daughter. How you doing sweetheart?" The guy smirked as he looked her over.

Hope didn't like the reading she got from this guy. It made her shudder. She smiled, sweetly, trying not to seem alarmed. "I'm fine, and you?"

"I'm great, now." He smirked, pulling her way too close for comfort. "What do you say that you and I have a little fun?"

Hope tried to push away, but he was stronger as long as the spell that kept her detained was in effect. "Not that kind of girl." She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her fear. When he reached down and squeezed her ass, she kneed him in the gut, causing him to fall to the pavement, and tried to run, but he grabbed her and pulled her on the ground with him.

The guy stood up over her and kicked her in the ribs. "You stupid bitch. You will learn today!" He grabbed her by the hair and began to walk backwards, dragging her with him. He didn't get very far before someone snapped his neck and he fell to the ground. Hope crawled away from the man's lifeless body and turned to lay on the ground. She knew that her ribs would heal in minutes, but they hurt like hell at the moment. She sqeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them again, Hope couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips, when she met the familiar blue eyes of Tristan, who was squatted down beside her.

Tristan gave her a smirk and shook his head. "The idea, when you have been violated, is to scream for help."

"My apologies, I'll remember that next time." She laughed. Her ribs had healed and she pushed up from the ground. Tristan helped her to her feet.

"Ah, looks like we have more unwanted company." He pointed to the two men, who were looking aimlessly around. "I do believe they are looking for you."

Hope recognized them. Her father's guards. Hope gasped and the men looked in their direction. Tristan took her hand and pulled her quickly away, but the men followed. It wasn't until they turned a corner that Hope said, "Go!"

Tristan stared into her eyes for a moment as he pulled her close. His cool mint breath brushed her lips as he whispered, "We will meet again." Before she could blink, he was gone. The maze of the back alleys of New Orleans had stalled the men, but they eventually caught up.

Hope was taken to Klaus and to her surprise, the men had no idea who she was with. They told her father that she was in the alley with some boy.

Klaus' jaw clenched. His little girl was with some boy? "Who?!" He growled through clench teeth.

Hope's gaze locked on her father's. "It's none of your business. I'm 22 and I'm not gonna become Rebekah and have you poking around in my love life for the rest of eternity. I'll never grow older that 21 in appearance, dad, but I'm an adult." Hope turned and walked from the room as her father stood there, not getting the chance to say anything more. Love life? Was it really anthing of the sort?

Hope needed to stop thinking. She always over contemplated things. So, she called the one person that she knew that she could have fun and get totally wasted without any judgement.

The phone rang a couple times before a familiar british accent answered with, "Hello, sweetheart."

Hope smiled, even her Aunt Rebekah's voice made her feel better. "Hello, Auntie Bex. Are you busy?"

Rebekah looked at her surroundings. The bar was quiet and quite frankly, she would love nothing more than to spend time with her niece. They'd always been extremely close. "Not at all. What do you need?"

"Come save me from the misery that is my life." Hope pleaded. She plopped down on her bed.

Rebekah shrugged, "I can think of nothing better to do. Wait out front, I'll be there in five. God forbid I get in a quarrel with my dear brother today." She hung up, got in her car, and headed across town to the Mikaelson Manor.

When she pulled up, Hope quickly got in and Rebekah sped away, attempting to avoid being followed. "So, what is the story? Nik driving you mad with his overbearing parenting skills?"

"You could say that. I..." Hope thought for a moment. She trusted her Aunt Rebekah more than anything in the world, but would she keep this secret? "I met someone...I guess you could say, but he's psychotic. Yet, I am never fearful around him. I love to be near him."

Rebekah glanced over at Hope and smiled, "Well, who is it?"

Hope bit her lip. "Tristan De Martel."

"WHAT?!" Rebekah swerved off of the road and parked on the side. "Hope, you're right! He is psychotic and dangerous!"

"I know." Hope frowned.

Rebekah studied her niece's face for the longest time. She looked so confused at what to do. Rebekah remembered that feeling and something in her refused to tell Hope that she should stay away from someone that she clearly cared about.

"My advice to you: Proceed with caution. Don't let your guard down, easily, and DO NOT allow yourself to get swept away by his tricks. Be sure he is genuine with you, if no one else." Rebekah sighed, pulling back on the road. "I am only saying this to you, because I know what it is to love a psycho. I have loved plenty. It never worked for me, because of Nik, but you have to find your own path. Tristan could be the one and people may keep you away from your destiny. I will not be one of those. That would be hypocritical of me."

Hope didn't know what scared her more, the okay from her Aunt Rebekah to go for it, or the fact that she knew she was going to, anyway.

The two of them walked into Rousseau's. Before the bartender could say anything, Rebekah looked into his eyes. "Vodka, the whole bottle, on the house." She compelled. The bartender nodded, reached over, grabbed a bottle of "Absolut" and handed it to Rebekah.

Rebekah and Hope shared the bottle and another until they were drunk. Rebekah paired off with a guy from the bar, leaving Hope, who promised to call a Taxi. Instead, she walked out of the door and began stumbling her way home. The street lights were blurry, but she followed them as far as she could. Until, Hope saw headlights and got confused, falling down into the road. The car would have hit her, without even noticing, but it didn't. Before she knew it, she was in the arms of someone that she couldn't see clearly. However, she knew his scent.

"Tristan..." Hope cleared her throat, trying not to act as drunk as she was. "Put me down, please."

Tristan chuckled, "What? You want to go round two with an automobile? I think not. I will take you home."

"Are you crazy?!" Hope stared at him, clearly alarmed. "My dad will kill you and then kill me for getting drunk and associating with you!"

Tristan didn't say a word, just vamped to his house across the Mississippi. He placed Hope on his bed and went to the kitchen, making her a cup of hot tea. He walked in the room and handed it to her. "Drink." He demanded.

Hope stared up at him as she sipped the hot tea and placed it on the bedside table. "Who knew that we would meet again, so soon?" She smirked.

Tristan laid down beside her. "Who knew that you would get drunk and almost killed by a car?" Tristan smirked back at her.

"Well, you don't have to follow me or deal with me. I was fine. Even if I did get hit, I would come back to life. I don't need you to save me all the time." She got up and almost fell, but Tristan vamped over and caught her.

"You saved me. I'm just returning the favor." Tristan whispered.

"Saved you from what?"

"You saved me from never knowing what it was like to care about someone as deeply as I do you. You saved me from the selfishness within me. You saved me from myself."

"T-take me home, please," Hope's panicked. Did he just admit that he felt the same that she did for him? This was a bad idea. Hope couldn't fall for him. It'd only end in disaster, but as she lay in her bed, later that night, she knew that it was too late.

A few weeks passed and Hope couldn't take it anymore. She stood outside, staring into space. Then, she began to run. She took a detour through the city, making it unclear where she was going. She lost her father's guards after going down an alleyway and climbing a utility ladder onto a building. She climbed off the other side and headed towards the fairy, taking it across the Mississippi to the house she'd been held hostage in. Once inside, she closed and locked the door. Tristan was in the shower, when she arrived. Hope replayed the kiss in the alley over and over again.

After Tristan got out of the shower, he noticed Hope was on the couch as he walked out into the living area. Tristan sat at the piano. He played the keys, beautifully, before he got up, went to the record player and put on a soft melody. He walked over to Hope. "I didn't think you'd come back to me." Tristan whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine. He pulled her close.

"I shouldn't have, but truth be told, I missed you." Hope confessed, looking into his eyes.

Tristan smiled, "I am psychotic. You'd best stay away from me." There was a half way sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I know." Hope returned his smile as they began to dance to the melody. The rest of the world disappeared.

And then, suddenly, the world appeared again. Her father had Tristan by the throat. He was going to kill him, no doubt. Klaus must have followed her, himself. That's when Hope lost it. She didn't remember what happened. All she remembered was that one minute her father was there and the next, he had retreated for safety. Hope had broken Freya's spell and her magic was in full force.