The hiatus is over! I'm back, dear readers, and I'm not the only one...
Unsurprisingly, it was entirely his fault.
Elijah was flustered to say the least. What was happening to him? He was never so graceless. Since when did he not realize what was standing right in front of him?
The truth was he hadn't been looking where he was going. He'd all but walked straight into the poor man, knocking a handful of belongings to the ground and causing a nice little scene in the middle of the terminal.
It was really tremendously frustrating.
Wasting no time, he didn't even bother to look up before sinking to one knee to gather up the scattered items. Ending up with a passport that was not one of his, he scanned the emblem on the cover and swiftly rose to his feet to return it, ready to apologize to the man in his native language.
But it wasn't French that came out; it wasn't English, or anything at all. Elijah was too shocked to form any words at all.
The man, on the other hand, was simply rolling in laughter.
"Mon bon ami, quelle surprise!"
Indeed.
Elijah was in fact so utterly flummoxed he'd lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.
Genuine, genteel, and disarmingly handsome, it was certainly hard enough under normal circumstances to come to terms with Philippe's existence. Elijah's mind reeled with every possibility, trying to rationalize the truth right in front of him.
Philippe was alive.
"This isn't possible."
It came out on a whisper. He was talking to himself – a sure sign of insanity, second only to the fact that he was surely seeing things.
The lack of sleep was getting to him and it was far too early for mysterious, unexplained resurrections. He decided to start slowly, working through the facts.
"Philippe."
"That's me."
"You're dead."
"You'd think."
"Then how?"
"Long story."
"I see…" Elijah blinked, not seeing it at all. He felt like he was at the center of some complex, elaborate joke and he felt particularly slow for missing the punch line.
Philippe took pity on him.
"I'll explain it all if you have the time. Are you boarding soon? I assume you don't always run through airports like a madman."
His smile didn't quite reach his eyes; it was clear that both men were tired in ways that had nothing to do with sleep. Philippe did however manage to elicit a flicker of amusement from Elijah, who pulled him in for a brotherly embrace.
"I shall always have time for you, my good man. It is wonderful to see you again."
"You can trust me to always be here to watch you make a fool of yourself."
"Yes, that was not my finest moment. Perhaps let's agree to never speak of it again."
"Done," Philippe laughed, accepting back his passport with a thankful nod. "Now what have I missed?"
The mood instantly shifted between them. Despite the happy reunion and relief knowing he was alive, Elijah couldn't look at his sister's husband without feeling the loss of her presence and remembering everything that had happened in the wake of her disappearance.
"I don't know where to begin," he confessed. "Niklaus against Rebekah, and then Leah… until Mikael…and then Hope –"
"Peace," Philippe stopped him gently, "Recall I have not actually been dead this whole time."
"So you already know?" Elijah realized, freshly confused. "How?"
"Now that is a very long story. Walk me back to my gate and I will find the time to tell it."
Taking a second to reposition his bag over his shoulder, Elijah fell in line.
"You are waiting on a flight as well?"
"What else am I doing in an airport?" Philippe laughed. "Do you think I've been living here for weeks? If I were hiding out it would certainly not be here, Elijah. Have you been through security? Barbarians."
"Then where have you been all these weeks?"
"Undercover you could say, helping the war effort. It was easier to move around if Mikael at least thought I was dead. I am sorry, however, that you had to think so. That was never my intention. Unfortunately things got quite a bit hectic after the cabin fire and I simply wasn't able to get a message to you or Rebekah."
"Rebekah… Philippe, I'm sorry she is not here."
"She is safe, I am sure."
"I wish I shared your optimism. I don't even know where she is. Rebekah was grieving for you and furious at Niklaus but the fault is mine; I should not have let her slip away so easily."
"Why are you apologizing," Philippe touched his shoulder gently. "Do you also apologize to the shore when the tide rolls out to the sea? There are some things that cannot be dictated except by the nature of their being; perhaps this is something you should remind your brother of as well."
"You are likely right, although my brother has a particularly strong nature of his own."
"Oh, yes, I know. That final day at the cabin I approached Klaus; it was after you had left to find Leah and we were packing up the cars to move out. I wanted him to leave immediately and not wait until morning."
"Your specific concern?"
"Imagine that when a spell is performed there are, for lack of a better word, waves of energy – invisible of course – but there in the air flowing from the caster to the catalyst, as we call them. Now this catalyst can be a person or an object or other waves of energy which combine and react to produce, well, magic."
Elijah felt that he had walked out of the airport and into a classroom. He didn't have time for a lesson and gave Philippe a look that demanded a point.
"Right. Anyway, all this is to say that spells aren't foolproof – they can be reflected, deflected, interrupted and otherwise disrupted. If you remember, that day something was disrupting my locator spells. The issue, I realized later, was some sort of interference caused by an unknown catalyst."
"You mean some other magic than your own."
"Some stronger magic than my own."
"And you brought your concerns to Niklaus?"
"Immediately. If the interference was negating my spells than who could say if the other magic in the area wasn't similarly compromised."
Elijah fell back in disbelief.
"Compromised? Philippe, are you saying the cloaking spell failed that night?"
"That was the possibility I introduced to your brother."
"And what exactly did Niklaus say in return?"
"He thanked me for my 'astute observation' but made it quite clear we would wait until you returned with Leah before leaving. I am not embarrassed to say I gave your brother some push back on this and we argued, but then about ten minutes later the living room was on fire and none of it mattered anymore."
Philippe's tone had gone so flat it was impossible for Elijah not to feel guilty that he hadn't been there in those hours before Mikael had attacked. His thoughts then turned to where he had been, and what Leah had been up to, but he immediately stopped himself from wandering down old roads again.
"And this interference," he continued, "what was it?"
"I'll tell you when I know for sure. Probably something that followed us from New Orleans. Those witches were clever enough to work a spell across both distance and time. Unfortunately it's just impossible to know the full consequences of the ritual they performed on Hope's birthday."
"I had hoped our troubles with the Quarter witches ended with their death."
"Au contraire, my good friend. Death rarely brings an end to anything."
It had an oddly pointed conclusion and Elijah turned intently toward Philippe just as he gestured up ahead.
"I hope you can share a short detour. Old habits die hard and this is the first decent place I've seen in an hour."
He motioned them toward one of the small coffee shops that dotted this part of the airport. Elijah declined anything for himself with a slight shake of the head, both hands settling deep in his pockets as he looked on from the entrance.
It was when Philippe gestured to make his order that he saw it on his hand - the blue shine of a stone that could only mean one thing...
Elijah rolled his shoulders forward, instantly on guard; he had never thought to consider that his friend might be a foe. Joining Philippe at the counter, he raised a questioning brow.
"I was just admiring your new ring," he opened tightly.
"You noticed," Philippe said with a hint of regret. "I hope you don't think I was trying to deceive you. I didn't want to spoil our happy reunion with the details of my transition."
He smiled to the barista as she passed over his coffee, dropping a hearty handful of change in the tip jar. For some reason this small gesture made Elijah feel even worse.
He was trying to keep the disappointment off his face. What a waste of talent - of life, but Philippe was doing his best to pretend that nothing had changed though everything had.
Leah had been the same: she never wanted to talk about becoming a vampire either.
"Who turned you, Philippe? You understand why I need to ask."
"You need to be sure I'm not under your father's compulsion, of course I understand. Your brother did warn me when he gave me his blood that I would lose my immunity."
"Niklaus turned you?"
Elijah sounded horrified but Philippe continued to stir the milk into his drink with a smile.
"It's not quite that straightforward. When the cabin went up in flames and I realized we had lost our chance to escape, there was really only one way to ensure Rebekah's safety – Hope's safety. But going up against your father, exhausted and with unreliable magic, I knew going in that I might not be coming out."
"And Rebekah let you take such a risk?"
"I didn't tell her my plan. She would never have let me go through with it. I did not, however, expect such resistance from Klaus. He wouldn't hear it, too afraid I believe that your sister would never forgive him if something happened to me. So we argued some more and eventually came to compromise."
"A plan B," Elijah said softly, watching Philippe take his first sip.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, B for blood. I had Klaus' in my system when Mikael killed me. So if anyone knew I wasn't dead it was him…well, not dead-dead."
Elijah stood silent for a moment, making a mental note to unbraid his brother later.
"Philippe... I am so sorry."
"There you go again, apologizing. My dear friend, you cannot control everything - contrary to your beliefs. Could you pass the sugar?"
Elijah smiled supportively as he handed over the silver container; it was hard to remain saddened by Philippe's transition when he was so adamantly refusing to be sad about it himself.
"If anything, Rebekah will be delighted to have earned herself a few more centuries of martial bliss."
"She will indeed!" Philippe chuckled, a twinkle back in his eye. He set his coffee back on the counter, pulling himself onto a stool. "Can I tell you a secret, Elijah? She's wanted me to turn since our honeymoon. Of course I kept putting off giving her any sort of answer but I guess you can't love a Mikaelson without it changing you fundamentally."
Elijah's eyes wandered back out into the terminal as Philippe's words immediately brought his thoughts back to Leah. Reminded of the long distance between them that seemed to grow by the minute, he suddenly felt inexplicably exhausted.
Philippe easily read his emotions and set down his cup sympathetically.
"You must be eager to get back to New York."
"In fact...how did you know?"
"I simply assumed you're on your way to see the lovely Leah. In my experience, there aren't many reasons people run madly through airports but love is certainly one of them."
Elijah remained quiet, his expression obviously tense.
"Did I say something?" Philippe asked apologetically.
"No, this is all Niklaus. Clearly my brother values his secrets above all else."
"Well, if it's any assurance I don't think there's anyplace safer for Leah to be. Who do you think told your brother to take her to New York? I have friends in the city who can help us. Even though I was a vampire they took me in after my transition and made me this daylight ring."
Elijah watched him drum his fingers up the side of his cup, wondering why his brother had never mentioned any of this during their phone conversations.
Then again, he shouldn't be surprised.
"These friends of yours, Philippe? Witches?"
"Some of the best. They've come from all around the world to study with the Canal Street coven. I was a fellow there myself some years back. You can trust them and you will need their help, Elijah. The White Oak stake can only do so much; this is another thing your brother and I argued about."
"I am quite impressed how well you seem to be able to hold yourself against him. I'm afraid I've lost all ability to make Niklaus see any sort of reason."
"Now I didn't say I was successful: you know how attached Klaus is to that stake. The thing is Mikael is more magic than man at this point. He's nothing more than a golem, a handful of dust animated by the witches of New Orleans. There's a slim possibility the stake won't be enough."
"And Niklaus knows this already?"
"I've kept him updated on what I'm been learning in my travels. I'm surprised he hasn't shared any of it with you."
"I am not. Niklaus doesn't quite trust me anymore."
"Mais non, never; he looks up to you greatly. You have to remember that people have many reasons for keeping secrets. Perhaps your brother is simply trying to protect you."
A phone sounded loudly before Elijah could voice his doubt.
"Speak of the devil," Philippe swiped his screen. "This is probably him now."
As he checked the new message Elijah looked on with a growing sense of unease. He felt there was something Philippe wasn't telling him, but then again he knew there were things he wasn't telling Philippe.
What most concerned him, however, was the complete possibility that there were several things Niklaus wasn't telling either of them.
"Zut," Philippe scowled, looking down at his phone. "I'm in trouble now."
"Is it Niklaus?"
"I wish. Your brother I can handle. It appears my search party, on the other hand, is officially wondering where I am."
"Your search party?"
Sliding off his stool, Philippe got to his feet with a widening grin.
"Do me a favor, Elijah - be my alibi when your sister arrives."