"I will love the light, for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness, because it shows me the stars."
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He didn't mean to find her that night.
Elijah Mikaelson had become many things after his memories of his family had disappeared, but he still thought his actions through thoroughly before taking part in them, a habit that not even Marcel Gerard's compulsion could break. When a sudden conflict arose, he would sit, or stand, with a pensive look on his face, analyzing almost every outcome that could occur, before finally settling on a possible solution. He was not impulsive, nor was he reckless, not even when threatened, so it was no surprise that when he stumbled upon the girl, millions of thoughts had raced through his head, each one leading to a different outcome.
Antoinette needed to stay indoors still, the sun beating down on the French town of Manosque, but Elijah wanted to feed before his night at the piano once again. The interesting turn of events that had happened in the last year had led him to a beautiful girl that made him quite happy and a life that he couldn't get enough of, and while he sometimes reminisced about what could've been with his old life, he often shut his own thoughts down after the run-in with Marcel in New York a few months ago. So, wearing his leather jacket and a dark shirt paired with some comfortable jeans, he strolled down the streets leisurely, in no rush to get back home seeing as there are still a few rays of daylight scattered across the city.
He hummed to himself lightly, his brown eyes scanning the crowds for a possible prey; it wasn't very difficult to find the perfect candidate, and soon enough he was leading the human down into a narrow alley, compelling them to relax just as Antoinette had shown him. When he finally took a sip of their blood, the hormones lacing their blood was euphoric, and in his moment, he didn't even hear the slight rustling of clothes, at least not until there was a large bang, followed by almost incoherent whimpers.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he tore his fangs away from the human, narrowing his eyes at the sheet of darkness that separated him from the noise. He focused his hearing in the general direction of the noise and heard gurgling, as well as the sounds of protest. He searched his brain for what his next choice of action should be, and while he knew it was none of his business, he couldn't help but turn to the human woman, looking deeply into her blue eyes.
"You will forget this ever happened," he compelled her, watching as her eyes dilated to match his own. "You will go home and you will complain to your family about the fall you took down the stairs, ruining your favorite shirt," he finished, fiddling with the bloodied collar of her white blouse. "Do you understand?"
The woman nodded, saying a simple, "Oui, je comprends." He nodded, thanking whatever magic it took that compulsion was not incompetent when faced with language barriers. While he could've spoke to her in French, sometimes he forgot where he was and spoke in his native tongue.
Releasing the woman, his eyes followed her to the edge of the alley before he finally turned completely around, walking toward the darkness as the sun started to set, creating an ominous feeling that made him cautious. He knew how to protect himself, but that still didn't mean that he could know what to expect; it could honestly be anything, or anyone.
As he grew closer to where the first sounds had come from, he could hear crying, the sobs separated by small, vulnerable sniffling that made whoever it was sound very, very young. Elijah tilted his head, walking farther and allowing his eyes to adjust on the scene before him.
Just a few steps away, under a small, flickering light that was bolted to the side of an alley, sat a young girl curled up in a ball. Elijah tensed when he saw the blood covering her body, as well as the dead man only a foot away from the girl's trembling form, connecting the pieces in record time and realizing that the girl had murdered him. By the way that the man's blood coated her mouth, Elijah also had a relatively strong feeling that she was a vampire as well.
He couldn't see her face, seeing as she was currently crying into her knees, but he knew that she couldn't be older than 17 years old when she transitioned, and he guessed that she hadn't been a vampire for very long considering her reaction to killing that man. Elijah, at a loss of what he should do without Antoinette explaining what the proper conduct for this type of thing was, shifted slightly, hearing his leather jacket brush up roughly against the brick wall behind him.
She must've been more aware of her surroundings than he originally thought, because at the sound, her head whirled up, her eyes wide and wild as she flashed to her feet, ready to pounce if needed. Her auburn hair was tangled around her face, and her eyes were so different than blue yet not even close to brown that he was forced to call them grey. The color was like the grey of steel, or perhaps silver, but not the grey of the sea or a cloudy day. It was unique, but coupled with the violent array of freckles on her startling pale skin made her even more unique visibly. Her face was round, and he thought she might even be younger than he suspected.
"Who's there?" she asked in a very obvious American accent, trying to sound confident but ultimately failing when her voice trembles. She shifted on her feet, the bloodied green shirt and blue jeans possibly uncomfortable when she nervously pulled on the long sleeve of the top. Her white sneakers are even dirtier, not only with blood but dirt and grime as well, the same dirt that's stained across her forehead. She must've been out on her own for quite some time.
Knowing that he's caught, Elijah moved into the light of the alley, seeing her eyes shoot to his as she analyzes everything about his appearance. He can see the intelligence in her eyes, as well as the survival instinct as she takes a small step backwards, her fingers grabbing onto the hem of her shirt as a nervous habit. She seems even younger when her shoulders hunch forward in fear, and he can't help but sympathize with the girl. She's obviously confused, and scared, and on her own. Elijah himself was like her not too long ago, and where he had Antoinette to help him, this girl needed someone, and Elijah happened to be the only one around.
So, making a decision in his head, he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay," he told her in response to her movement away from him, shaking his head. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Her grey eyes never left his as they narrowed, her head shaking. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked, suspicion clear in her voice and he briefly wonders how many times someone had betrayed her for her to feel like this.
He shrugged, not breaking his gaze with her either. "I guess you'll just have to trust that I can help you," he tried to tell her, taking a step closer that she doesn't miss by the way her already-tense limbs tense even more, if that was possible.
"How?" she asked him, the dry tears on her face making her look even more helpless. "You don't even know what I am."
"Are you not a vampire?" he asked her, and he watched her give him a surprised look, followed by more suspicion, probably wondering what he knows about the supernatural. He's quick to add, "I'm one as well."
As proof, he lets the whites of his eyes darken to a red color and the veins underneath his eyes twitch before leaving his face completely. The girl watched him curiously now, relaxing just slightly when she realizes that he's like her. She hesitated visibly before sighing, shaking her head. "Sort of," she answered his question, raising her hand to the flickering light source above her. He watched her in slight surprise when the light glows brighter than it ever had, practically feeling the girl's magic from his spot a few feet away.
"A witch," he breathed before looking puzzled once more, shaking his head. "How is that possible?"
She lowered her hand, taking the bright light and the magic away as she turns to face him, wrapping her arms around her stomach as if cold. She shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with her past when she answers him. "I was a siphoner when I was human, which meant I was a witch who could only steal magic from others," she confessed, biting her lip. "After I transitioned, I realized that I could channel magic through my vampire state, and now I'm one of the few heretics that have lived, and probably the youngest out of them all."
"How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?" Elijah politely asked, and her grey eyes search his for a moment before shaking her head.
"Why does it even matter to you?" she questioned, looking honestly curious at his line of questioning. "You don't even know me."
"I don't need to," he explained with a small smile, shaking his head as he took another step toward her, glad to see that she doesn't tense at the movement as much as before. "All I need to know is that you're alone, and you need help, and I was in your shoes not that long ago."
"Really?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet.
He nods his head, smiling at her. "Really," he repeated. "But then I found someone who could help me, and now I understand who and what I am, at least a little." Elijah pauses, looking over her bloodied form once more before holding out his open hand to her. "If you'll let me, perhaps I could help you understand too."
"What like a... like a mentor?" she asked, confused, but he just shakes his head.
"I was thinking more like a friend," he amended, and he sees the moment that she realizes he is telling her the absolute truth. Her eyes flicker from the dead body on the ground to his hand, only at arm's length away from her. She looks nervous, and maybe still a little scared, but when she gives him a small smile of her own, the first one he's seen of her, he knows the decision she made.
"Okay," she said quietly, nodding her head as she reached toward him, grabbing his hand in her own.
"Okay," he speaks as well, nodding. "Now, what is your name?"
"Arabella," she responds almost instantly, tilting her head at him. "What's yours?"
"Elijah," he replies simply, and they don't say anything past that, Elijah deciding to file away her daylight ring for a later conversation, one that Antoinette could take part in as well. He knows that she'll be concerned that Elijah is picking up strays, but she won't hesitate to help the poor girl, nor will she turn her away. She knows that if Elijah is actually doing this, then it means that he's deadly serious. And who knew, maybe the girl would come to mean something to Antoinette as well. He's only known her for a few minutes, but he knows that she already means something to him.
Looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a feeling in his gut, something that will truly blossom over the next years as Arabella becomes more than a stranger, and more than a friend.
She becomes family.
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Okay, so maybe I should explain a few things with this story.
So, obviously, if you haven't watched 5X03 of The Originals yet, you should probably so that before you read the next chapter because there will be a lot of spoilers if you don't. Also, I would like to say that this is my first fanfiction on this site so if you could please let me know if the prologue is good at all, that would be amazing and very much needed. I haven't really done a concept like this before and certainly not with Elijah, but I'm kind of excited about it and hopefully, the next chapter comes out as soon as I want it to.
And, because some people might need it, I do not own anything of the Originals or anything belonging to Julie Plec. I do, however, own Arabella Spade and will hunt you down if you decide to steal this precious bean away from me, okay? Like I will literally go "Klaus The Mad" on y'all if you do, so watch your back.
Anywayyy, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you can leave a review if you did. Thanks for sticking around!
Till next time!