A/N: This is just a little something new I'm working on. Everything is canon through 1x02. I feel like there are a couple other things you should know before you read this but I don't know how to tell you without blowing the big secret. I don't know. I hope you like it!

"You know," the girl began, bored. "I could always tell you how to kill an original vampire."

Davina's eyes raked across the spacious bedroom until her gaze settled on the girl reclined against the headboard of the four-poster bed, her legs extended in front of herself and crossed at the ankles, her long black hair falling over her shoulder in semi-stylized waves. This was the last person Davina expected to see in New Orleans-no, in the world. Last she checked, this girl was six feet under.

Davina would know, she had been there.

xxx

Leia Calloway's funeral was a most exuberant occasion, fit with booze, a bonfire, dancing, and nearly the entire supernatural population of New Orleans. Witches in the Quarter flocked to Marcel's neck of the woods, his night walkers donned various shades of dark blue and black, and Davina, then just barely ten years old, clung to the king's neck as he carted her around piggyback style.

With small, intent brown eyes she watched the scene before her. Witches mingling with vampires, werewolves drowning in handles of Jack; it was a sight never to be seen again. This was a once in a lifetime experience and Davina was giddy as ever to have been included at all. If anything she'd expected Marcel to return home with stories to tell her, stories of Leia's reign alongside himself as his queen.

From the start Marcel had been infatuated with Leia, though she was only sixteen upon her arrival in the Quarter. Growing up under the watchful eye of Niklaus Mikaelson in the 1800s, a young man was of age by fifteen, and a woman by sixteen. Things were different now, of course, but Marcel knew better than most how mature one could grow by the middle mark of their teenage years.

With Marcel's adoration for Leia, perhaps it was better that she broke the rules sooner rather than later. "Any witch who actively practices or assists in the practice of natural or ancestral magic within the boundaries of the French Quarter under the reign of Marcel Gerard shall be met with a penalty of death," as reads Gerard's Law, Marcel's set of guidelines for residing in his kingdom.

Even though he possessed exclusive control over the witch bloodlines in New Orleans, visitors of differing heritages need not obey him. However he would kill them if they didn't, but that wasn't something they needed to know about. Leia was one of them, the ones who couldn't be controlled, the witches who thought they were supremely powerful. Not even Marcel's soft spot for Leia could keep her in safe hands. The second she performed a locator spell to track down an old friend in the state, Marcel was on her.

Dragging an entirely unwilling sixteen year old girl into the streets was a struggle; Marcel yelled for a night walkers and the witches and snapped her neck for all to see, before he could think too much about it. Mere hours later that night they lowered her body into the ground. Only they had no idea they were burying her alive.

xxx

"Leia." The name fell from Davina's lips as a sort of whisper-slash-gasp that sounded more terrified than anything. And Davina was terrified-she was seeing ghosts. "You're supposed to be-"

"I'm no ghost," Leia cut her off, but in an uninterested sort of way because Leia was ultimately over and bored of the way the welcome committee in the Quarter was treating her return.

"-dead. A ghost," Davina finished a second later. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her eyes screwed shut momentarily as if the tiny action would make Leia disappear.

It didn't.

Stranger things had happened in New Orleans, people returning from the depths of the graveyard was nothing compared to some of the things Marcel and his cronies bragged about. Marcel; all Davina's thoughts flocked to her pseudo father, who without a doubt would not be welcoming the newcomer with open arms. He would want to know how she was alive, what she wanted in New Orleans, and why the fuck now instead of earlier in the last six years?

If Marcel were there now he would know just what to do. He would crash his reign down on Leia, kick her out of the Quarter, kill her again. People such as herself weren't welcome in the king's territory. Perhaps Davina could-

"You can't magic me out of here, it won't work." She still sounded bored, almost more so this time.

Davina had risen from her seat and abandoned all thoughts of completing her latest delve into the world of acrylic paints. Crossing the bedroom she stood hesitantly at the foot of her bed, her delicate hands resting lightly on the edge of her deep purple duvet. Through her fingertips she pulsed a charge of energy meant to induce Leia into a temporary coma, meant to buy her a little time to track down Marcel and let him deal with this.

The current halted mid-voyage and spun a tight u-turn, returning to the hands of the little witch. Davina blinked. Her own magic could not harm her, so she feared not the idea that she may be thrust into an unwilling sleep, but the notion that this girl opposite her possessed the power to literally turn her magic a one-eighty. Her chocolate brown eyes fell to her hands which she flexed, her finger curling inwards until her clean cut nails pressed little half moons into her palms.

"What are you doing?" Davina's head fell to the side as she peered intently at Leia, the thoughts in her head churning round and round until she could not tell mortality from reality. Her physicality was ever present, her subconscious at the helm of her mind's control board, but Davina watched from elsewhere. It was as if she had slipped from her body and was watching from a few feet away. All thoughts of malice and bad natured reciprocation fled from Davina's head.

From outside of her own body she observed the scene in front of her, though she had no influence on neither Leia's nor her own actions. She observed as a ghostly presence, one who could only link herself to the empty shell that was her physical being.

"I'm thirsty," Leia's voice rang deep, b0uncing back and forth inside the shells of her ears; an echo. Though when Davina made a move to respond, to scoff and tell her to get herself something to drink, her body made no effort to move an inch. And then she was back inside, once again sitting behind her body's control panel. But this time when she raised her gaze, expecting to lay eyes upon a monster, she saw only a gentle girl about the same age as herself.

"Leia," Davina murmured, her breath catching in her throat. "You're thirsty," she repeated. "Can I get you something to drink?" It mattered not that Davina was whole again, no longer two identical bodies standing next to one another, she felt no resentment towards Leia. Only adoration, curiosity, and the desire to give this girl whatever she asked for.

"Stay where you are," Leia commanded, though gently. Davina dared not move a muscle as Leia crawled forward from her position against the headboard until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees on either side of Davina's hips.

Pale green eyes met her own and Davina nearly melted. Succumbing to the warm, delicious touch of Leia's hands on her face was an easy task performed without hesitation. She savored the brush of the raven haired witch's fingertips against her cheeks, her lips, the underside of her jaw, and finally her neck. Internally she could just make out the dull pulse of thick blood coursing through her veins. Somewhere inside her jumbled jungle of a mind she registered how perfect it felt to stand snugly between Leia's legs, her small hands laid on Leia's thighs.

A split second later Leia's lips were on her, quickly locating the source of the pulse in her neck, and they parted to bare distinct fangs, which she swiftly sunk into Davina's neck. The drain of warm blood from her body brought forth a sort of dizziness that could only be compared with a narcotic high.

As the life left her eyes and her body slumped against Leia's, her lips parting in a silent gasp, the only word she managed to bring forth was vampire.