Chapter one

The ball

Kassandra smoothed down her dress as she stalked towards the Mikealson mansion. She didn't want to go to this thing- this ball. Why was she going? Because Esther somehow called her and invited her so that they could "talk." Esther, who had been dead for the past thousand years. Esther, who hadn't given her the time of day when Kassandra was still human. Esther, who almost too easily found out her cell phone number. Esther, who clearly had an ulterior motive behind her invitation.

Why was Kassandra going? Because Esther was a witch and she used to be a witch? Because they were "sisters?" Yeah, right. In Kassandra's mind, all the witches in the world who thought she should do them favors because they were "sisters" could go fuck themselves. She owed them nothing. Kassandra never owed people anything because she relied only on herself. She preferred relying only on herself. At least she knew she would never get double-crossed.

The only reason Kassandra was going to that damned ball was because she had nothing better to do. Her life was boring. It consisted of waking up, compelling her date from last night and sending him packing, cleaning her disastrous apartment, going to a bar, getting wasted and picking up a guy, and then repeating it all over again. At least driving five hours to a stupid ball would spice things up.

Kassandra tried her best not to stumble in her four-inch heels and to not trip on her long pink dress. Kassandra hated pink, but the dress she was wearing was the only thing close to a ball gown that she owned. She already regretted going to this stupid ball.

"May I take your-" a young woman started to say, but Kassandra just brushed past her. It wasn't the human's fault- she was just in a bad mood. She didn't want to talk to Esther fucking Mikealson; she didn't want to wear this stupid fucking pink dress. All Kassandra wanted was to be alone in her New York apartment with a bottle of whiskey and watch some bad TV. It was her own fault, though. She was the one who agreed to go.

Kassandra grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and tossed it back. She ignored the wrinkled noses and the pointed stares thrown her way at her lack of manners. She felt better with alcohol in her. It made her urges to rip throats out goes away.

On her second glass of champagne, Kassandra began to walk around the huge room she was in. It was full of people in fancy clothes making small talk. Every now and then she'd see a vampire, though none of them knew her. She was careful not run into any of the originals. Not that she thought they'd remember her- the blunt, surly, witch who lacked manners. It wouldn't matter if they did. But Kassandra thought it would be better if she remained anonymous at this ball, and throughout life in general.

Kassandra's hazel eyes wandered through the crowd, thinking about who they are and what importance they held, to be invited to the Mikealson ball. She wondered if they knew that the Mikealson children weren't just vampires, but the first of their kind. She wondered if they knew that their mother, Esther, was a great, powerful witch. Strong enough to create vampires, strong enough to come back from the dead a thousand years after she died. She wondered if the humans knew anything about the people around them, or if they were just blissfully oblivious. Kassandra didn't know which one was better.

As Kassandra started on her third glass of champagne, she spotted them; the originals. The five Mikealson siblings- the ones that made it out of the eleventh century. She remembered Henrik, the youngest sibling who died. It was his death that caused Esther to turn her remaining children into vampires. It was his death that was the reason Kassandra lost what little she had in the first place, and was why she was alive in the twenty first century, instead of being dead in the eleventh, like she should have been. She also remembered Henrik as the young boy who would play with Peter. The two boys had been great friends, before they both died-

Kassandra quickly shook her head. She couldn't think about her poor baby brother. If she did, all pretenses of control over herself would shatter. To distract herself, Kassandra focused on the original family.

The first person she saw was Rebekah. The youngest sibling and the only girl. She hadn't seen any of the originals in a thousand years, but she had heard plenty of stories about them. Stories like how Rebekah had been daggered for ninety years by Klaus. She hadn't really spoken to Rebekah when they were both human- she hadn't really spoken to any of the Mikealson siblings- but she knew that Rebekah hadn't been Tatia's biggest fan. Most women in their village hadn't been too fond of Tatia. But Rebekah's reason was different. She didn't like Tatia because the Petrova had been hell bent on ripping her brothers apart- or so it seemed. Tatia had been Kassandra's best friend, but even she hadn't been too proud of her friend for getting in between two brothers. In the end, she paid for it. Tatia should have known better, though.

She saw Klaus next. The hybrid. The man who daggered his siblings and kept them in coffins. The man who killed both of his parents. Kassandra would make sure not to piss him off. Her hazel eyes wandered over to Finn. He had been daggered for over nine hundred years. Kassandra would doubt that to be very fun. She pitied the poor, unlucky bastard.

Next she saw Kol. She knew that Kol had been daggered for around a century, and was a flirt, a manwhore. He was arrogant and had a traditional sense about vampires killing humans. Kassandra herself placed more value on life than traditionalists like Kol, but every now and then she dropped a body.

Lastly, she saw Elijah. Moral, honorable, aloof, gentlemanly Elijah. He was handsome, always had been. All of the originals were good looking. Kassandra had always had a secret soft spot for the eldest sibling, even if she had said two words to him her entire life. Back in their human days, she even caught herself being jealous of Tatia, for having Elijah wrapped around her finger. But that was a thousand years ago. Now, Kassandra just recognized Elijah as a being who was more than capable of ripping her heart out, and who looked really good in a tux.

Suddenly, Elijah caught Kassandra staring at him, and his brown eyes met her hazel ones. She quickly looked away, and busied herself with finishing her glass of champagne. Then she disappeared into the crowd so that Elijah couldn't make eye contact with her again.

As she was getting a fourth glass, Kassandra felt a tug on her arm. She turned around to see a waiter looking down at her. "Miss Kassandra?" he asked her in a business-like tone. She nodded slowly, blonde eyebrows furrowed. "Your company is required by Missus Mikealson."

Kassandra sighed. And here she was hoping that she could score a few free drinks and leave the ball before she would have to face Esther. But she allowed the waiter to lead her upstairs to Esther.

When Kassandra walked into a small room, she saw Esther sitting down on a couch, burning sage. She was casting a privacy spell, so that nobody would overhear them. Kassandra remembered that much.

"Kassandra Patrikson," Esther said, walking up to her as the waiter left the room, closing the door behind him. "It has been so long since I last saw you. You look so much like Gabriella, but you have Patrik's eyes."

Kassandra crossed her arms over her chest. The witch was trying to get her guard down with talk about her parents, like she actually knew them. Kassandra didn't even really know her father, Patrik. He had pissed the wolves off one full moon and had his intestines shredded. His brother, Jon, had been more of a father to Kassandra than he ever had been.

"It's not Kassandra Patrikson," she said gruffly, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Ah, yes," Esther said, giving her a pointed look. "You have changed your surname over the many centuries. Kassandra Patrikson. Kassandra Hennessy. Kassandra Black. Kassandra Stark. Who are you this century?"

"Kassandra Blake," she muttered. Esther smiled at her, but it seemed cold.

"Well then, Miss Blake, I am delighted that you could make it. Would you please sit down with me? There is something we must discuss." Esther gestured to the couch. Kassandra sighed and followed her before sitting down across from her.

"Why did you invite me here?" Kassandra asked her bluntly, choosing not to beat around the bush.

Esther chose her words carefully. "It has been a long time, Kassandra. I wanted to talk to my fellow witch about-"

"Bullshit," Kassandra said, cutting her off. Esther raised her eyebrows at her. "You want something from me. What is it?"

"Kassandra-" Esther started to say, but she cut her off again.

"You want something from me. Just say it. You don't call up somebody you haven't seen in a millennium and invite them to a ball unless you want something. So what do you want?" Kassandra crossed her arms over her chest and stared expectantly at Esther.

She sighed. "Your mother had things that no other witch- not this lifetime or any lifetime- had. Grimoires and herbs- things for spells and such. Now, I'm assuming that when she died, you kept her old things. Did you not?"

Kassandra smirked triumphantly to herself about being right before frowning. Why would Esther want a thousand year old spell book and some dried up herbs? "Why do you need them?" she asked her.

"Do you have them still?" Esther persisted.

"Why do you need them?" she repeated stubbornly.

Esther sighed. "For… spells." She didn't trust Kassandra enough to tell her about her plans to kill her children. If any of them, other than Finn, found out, the plan would be ruined. Esther could make do without some of Gabriella's old spells, but she figured that she would need them at some point in time.

Kassandra stared skeptically at Esther. Spells. How convincing. It didn't matter, anyhow. "I don't know, Esther," she said honestly. "I might, in some storage warehouse around the world, but I'm guessing it's a long shot. Most of my mother's things stayed in the eleventh century with her."

Esther sighed, disappointed. She knew that it was unlikely that Gabriella's spells were still around. It was unfortunate, though. Gabriella's spells were very powerful. She had been a very talented witch.

"Well, thank you anyway, Kassandra," Esther said, standing up. Kassandra took the hint and stood up as well.

"I should be going. I have a long drive," she said, slightly anxious to get out of Mystic Falls and back to New York.

"No, stay," Esther said unconvincingly. She wanted Kassandra to leave just as much as she wanted to leave.

Kassandra rolled her eyes but didn't call the witch out. Instead, she walked unceremoniously out of the room without saying goodbye. She never did like Esther.

Kassandra walked down the flight of stairs, careful not to trip over her ugly dress or stumble in her too high heels. She was focused on getting out of the huge mansion. After being on her own for so long, there was something unsettling about being in a huge crowd of people.

Suddenly, Kassandra tripped and stumbled right into a strong, tuxedo-covered chest. Arms steadied her and helped her back onto her own two feet. "Are you alright?" a deep voice asked her, a familiar voice.

Kassandra sighed to herself and looked up to meet eyes the color of oak. "I'm just peachy," she muttered gruffly, pulling away from him.

An amused smile lingered on Elijah's lips, before he frowned down at her. She looked familiar to him, yet Elijah couldn't place a name to her face.

Kassandra's eyes drifted away from him and back again before she shifted uncomfortably. "Well, thanks," she said, before moving to walk around him.

Elijah grabbed Kassandra's arm before she could leave. "Should I remember you?" he asked her, eyebrows furrowed.

Kassandra pulled her arm away from him. "Doubt it," she said, pushing a curl out of her eyes. "I'm not very memorable."

Elijah's lip twitched upward in amusement. But he knew this girl from somewhere, he was sure of it. "I'm Elijah," he said politely, offering her his hand.

"I know," she replied casually, and Elijah dropped his hand. "I really must be going," she told him.

Elijah opened his mouth to stop her, but Kassandra was already pushing through the crowd, gone. She was like Cinderella, though she didn't leave behind an uncomfortable glass slipper.

Little did Elijah know, he'd see his Cinderella again very soon.

~SYH~

A/N: review!

~Abby:)