Hello there. This is a first chapter of my new story.
Warning: The pairing of this story is Freya/Tristan but it will be slow burn.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Originals or any of the books, movies, tv shows and music I might mention in this story.
Freya is a feminine name of Nordic origin (freɪə). The name means "lady". It stems from Norse mythology, Freyja the goddess of love, beauty, war and death.
A gasp escaped Freya's pale lips as air finally filled her lungs again, her hands curled around her white sheets and she could feel her hair sticking to her skin because of the sweat that covered her skin. Her green eyes were filled with tears and she had to bite her bottom lip to stop them from falling down her cheek.
Memories filled her mind and no matter how hard she tried or how many spells she used she couldn't make them stop. All the things she went through seemed to have left some kind of a mark on her, giving her nightmares and making her paranoid.
She turned on her white i-phone and looked at the time with shock etched across her face. It was 3:27 in the morning, usually she would at least get a couple of hours of sleep until the nightmares woke her but this night it was different. Fully aware she wouldn't get any more sleep tonight she got out of her bad and turned on the lights. She glanced around the room, silently observing everything.
In the corner there was a table covered with her spells and herbs or as her brother had called it 'her witchy stuff'. It was a rather large table, but still not large enough to make the room seem any smaller. There was a white bed covered in messy sheets which she had just gotten up from, a coffee table was set right next to it and it was covered with small thingies like her phone, an alarm clock, hair bands and stuff like that. There were three windows with a view of the Bourbon street, which Freya loved to gaze through. There was a cream colored rug that covered the floor boards and matched her pale blue walls perfectly. And well that was it actually. Unless you counted the walk-in closet on her right, but Freya didn't. She said 'if it's big enough to be a room, it's a room'.
And that's where she was headed now. In matter of seconds she was already in the walk-in closet her eyes going over all the things she owned. There were special sections (thanks to her sister Rebekah) for different types of clothes (shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses,...). Without a second thought she grabbed the first dress in sight (which happened to be a dark purple mini dress) and a pair of black pumps (that added at least four inches to her height).
Satisfied with her choice she grabbed a matching black purse and threw it over her shoulder. It was small and practical, ezactly what she needed for a club she was going to. Yes, she was going to a club or a bar depending how you looked at it. It just so happened there was a perfect one in a walking distance fro her family's house. The Black Widow was the club's name.
She started going there about three months ago. Freya never went to clubs before that. Not because she didn't want to but because of the fact there weren't any before (a thousand years ago) and since she had woke up from her immortal sleep two years ago she never had time. But now when every night she would wake at 5 in the morning (due to her nightmares) she had more than plenty of time on her hands. So every night she would spent 2-3 hours in a large club where nobody knew her. Drinking, dancing and bringing strangers back to her place for something far from innocent.
The club wasn't far and even in her heels it only took her about ten minutes to get there. With a sigh Freya grabbed a black jacket which she placed safely over herself and quietly she left the house.
As expected it had only taken her nine minutes to get to the club. On the outside it was a big place built in the seventy's style but on the inside it was completely different. There were flashing lights everywhere and loud music blasted through the speakers. Masses of people filled the club. Some of them dancing and some of them sitting at the bar simply drinking their drinks.
And Freya loved it all. She loved how nobody here knew who she was. An immortal witch with issues that haunted her. She loved how the noise made all of her dark thoughts, all of the memories wanish. At least for a little.
And as much as she hated to admit it. She loved that she was the only one that knew about it. Her family has never been here and as far as she knew none of her friends or enemies even knew this place existed. Or so she thought.
In the far corner of the bar a thousand year old vampire sat observing the immortal witch. A glass of vine in her hand and her wild red hair falling down her shoulders. A wicked grin appeared on her lips as she knew it was time. It was time to begin her plan.
AN: So here it is. I hope it's okay.
I'm guessing the ending doesn't make much sense 'her plan' will be explained in the next chapter. And her is Aurora. And the plan involves Freya. That's all you need to know right now.
Please review and give me your honest opinions. I appreciate critics too and try to get better.
If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask them. xoxo