Eve of the 500th Park Winter Solstice Ball

The evening of the twenty-first of December, at the Mediterranean Estate in North Beverley Park California was a charged evening on many levels. Powerful witches and warlocks from all over the world convened on the extravagant three-point six acres and the manifested and latent magic hummed, pulsed, and swirled everywhere. The powerful magic nipped at one's feet, pulsed on the doorknobs, and swirled in the very air.

The thought of such powerful magic being concentrated in her family's ancestral manor didn't cross Penelope Park's mind as she stood in front of her full-length mirror in her childhood bedroom. The pretty witch twisted from side-to-side, observing her reflection from as many angles as she could, and in the privacy of her bedroom Penelope pushed up her breasts with a frown.

The Bluebella lingerie (Emilia bra and thong design) hugged her modest curves, eye-catching in their provocative and daring design. Given the nature of what the lingerie signified, Penelope had charmed the triple crossover strap cup detail for support (the cup straps only covering her nipples and sweeping underneath her breasts) and for the multiple straps of her thong to smooth over her hips evenly.

"Any ordinary man or woman would drool at the sight of me but is it enough to make you breathless Hope Mikaelson?"

Penelope giggled and blew a kiss at her reflection. With a mutter and dramatic snap of her fingers, she cast a quick-change charm on herself so that she could change into the pretty lingerie later tonight. She pulled on a simple black G-string but due to the design of her dress, forewent a bra.

She walked across her room, carefully pulled her evening gown off the hook on the back of her bathroom door, and slipped into the gorgeous fabric. Thanks to Josie's help (at least all the brunette siphoner's days spent helping Lizzie look good and then listening to Lizzie rant about fashion spells helped with something) the dress fell perfectly over Penelope's form.

Her hair was left down, slightly curled and Penelope knew Hope wouldn't be able to resist playing with it. In another odd quirk, Hope seemed to be infatuated with playing with Penelope's hair and in her alone time at night…or in the shower…. Penelope wondered if Hope would like pulling Penelope's hair in the throes of passion.

"Mind out of the gutter for now Penelope. Sexy times come later."

Knowing she was running out of time, even for someone who prided themselves on being fashionably late, Penelope sat down at her vanity and eyed her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye. Deft hands manipulated the makeup spread out across her vanity and ten minutes later she had her traditional smokey-eye look but with a heavy-handed dramatic effect. Tonight, was the Park Coven Annual Winter Solstice, and the 500th one at that so Penelope needed to be bold.

"And for the final two touches…"

Her lipstick was a rather muted red but given the eye-popping red color of her dress, all eyes would be drawn to her dress. And to further push Hope's mind into the gutter and raise the probability of both doing dirty things to the tribrid and having dirty things done to her by the tribrid, Penelope clasped a thin diamond choker around her neck. Given that Hope was part vampire Penelope knew that Hope was drawn to her throat and damn it all if Penelope didn't want Hope to feed on her tonight.

"In more ways than one too."

Penelope giggled, blew a kiss at her reflection, and swept out of her room. The grandfather clock struck seven and Penelope smirked. The celebration had started two hours ago, and her family had been introduced an hour ago. Given how strained the relationship between Penelope and her mother was Penelope had developed the habit over the years of showing up an hour late to whatever high function she was required to attend. This habit drove her mother out of her mind and many snide arguments happened, but Penelope held fast to her pettiness and her mother had acquiesced with a heavy sigh.

"Ahem."

Penelope cleared her throat a few minutes later as she had walked down the hallways, through a few rooms and now stood in front of the doors that led to the ballroom where the festivities were being held. The doorman nodded and opened the door. The Master of Ceremonies turned his head and straightened as he cleared his throat when he noticed Penelope.

"Attention, please. I present to you Miss Penelope Park, the eldest child, and heir apparent of High Priestess Isabella Park and her husband Roberto Park."

The room quieted down as the ballroom doors opened, the spell to magnify the sound when an arrival was to be announced in full effect and Penelope stood with the perfect poise and grace of a high-born lady at the top of the stairs.

The second-floor balconies that watched over the dance floor were packed with mostly witches, the few powerful vampires scattered about (the vampires in attendance were powerful heretics and werewolves were snubbed from this event, a still ongoing feud from centuries ago) and the rest of her family stood opposite of the entrance.

Penelope bowed her head at her mother, the High Priestess of the Park Coven, which was more a hive (the family coven was split into three covens of thirteen witches), and her mother ruled over the hive with a lace glove covering an iron fist. Her mother didn't nod back in courtesy, but Penelope hadn't expected her to, and Penelope mingled with the guests.

As well as snag the first glass of champagne she came across.

Half an hour later Penelope wanted to flee the ballroom and desperately light up a cigarette. She had played her part as heir apparent (joke as it may be) to perfection, gossiping with some of the guests, remarking upon the state of the witches as a whole with others, and deftly avoiding her mother and father when they made the rounds. Sometimes her little brother Jackson was with them, other times he wasn't, and Grandmother Park held court in her own darkened corner.

The door chime sounded, and Penelope smirked behind her flute as she knew who stood behind that door. The only guest that had yet to make their appearance and probably the only one that could get away with arriving so late. Penelope's mother was probably seething on the inside, but customs and courtesies prevented her from lashing out.

"Attention, please. I present to you Freya Mikaelson, eldest child of the Mikaelson Family and an Original. Escorting Freya Mikaelson is her wife Keelin Malraux-Mikaelson."

The introduction of arguably the most powerful witch in existence (besides Hope, whose power was growing with her knowledge) shouldn't have surprised Penelope as much as it did, but Freya Mikaelson hardly ever attended the Park Coven Annual Winter Solstice.

In Penelope's entire life, Freya had only attended twice and only one was memorable as the Original Witch had killed a haughty upstart witch trying to make a name for themselves. Freya Mikaelson had drained her champagne glass, summoned her winter coat, and turned around with a snap of her fingers. The young witch died a gruesome and bloody death.

"Ah, the young Penelope Park. Good evening."

So lost in her thoughts and reminiscing Penelope didn't notice as Freya and Keelin approached her in her shadowy alcove. With a jolt, Penelope returned to the present and smiled at the older women. Both were beautiful, Freya gorgeous, and Penelope chalked it up to those impeccable Mikaelson genetics.

"Good evening Freya Mikaelson. Keelin Malraux."

"So formal my dear sweet little thing. Relax. I've promised to be on my best behavior tonight."

At Freya's words, Penelope raised an eyebrow, and the older witch waggled her eyebrows. Her wife scoffed and hit her shoulder.

"And I'm here to keep an eye on you. The last time you attended this event you were definitely not on your best behavior."

"That was over a decade ago my love. I think that everyone here has matured and looked past it. Besides, my reputation and family name will prevent even the most daring from doing something as foolish as attacking me again."

The casual way in which Freya Mikaelson spoke of death and murder amused Penelope. The other woman didn't appear to have a care in the world about ending someone else's life and Freya winked as she took a healthy sip from her champagne.

"My darling niece has spoken so much about you Penelope Park. I'm here to-"

"Attention, please. I present to you Hope Mikaelson, the only child of Niklaus and Hayley Mikaelson, heir to the Mikaelson family, the only Tribrid in existence, slayer of Malivore, and ruler of the four New Orleans Factions."

"Wow…"

Normally Penelope would have been mortified at the way her mouth dropped open and as the exclamation left her lips but Hope Mikaelson all dolled up for a formal event was breathtaking. Mind melting. Penelope felt like her eyes would bulge out of their sockets and her heart would beat out of her chest comically like they did in the old cartoons.

In their teenage years, Hope Mikaelson dressed conservatively (except for those blasted low cut tops that hinted at a large amount of cleavage) and in various shades of black, gray, and muted red outside of the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted uniform.

In the warmer months, Hope wore leggings and pants, and the only time Penelope had ever seen her wear shorts was for the football team. During the dances or birthday parties for the Saltzman twins, Hope wore dresses that didn't quite seem like her, as if someone else had picked them out.

Even during the pool parties in the warmer months Hope always wore her exercise gear and never a swimsuit. No bikinis or even a conservative one-piece. Just a tank top and leggings.

For the far and few times Penelope saw Hope as a young adult graduated from school, the Mikaelson heir wore business casual or exercise gear. Tailored slacks, jeans, leggings, hoodies, long-sleeve shirts, fitted button-downs but never skirts or dresses.

Which was a damn shame in Penelope's mind as for the first time in their heated and charged friendship, Hope Mikaelson was dressed to impress and in a dress style of her choice. And what a dress it was.

How could a dress be form-fitting, tight, clinging to the right places, and flowy all at once? A plunging neckline down to two inches above her bellybutton put Hope's heavy, full breasts on complete display while teasing the beginnings of sculptured abs. Something shiny glittered around Hope's neck, dropping down into the valley between Hope's breasts but Penelope couldn't make it out from where she stood. The thin shoulder straps looped back over her shoulders which showed off her toned shoulders and arms and the fabric clung to her wide hips like a second skin.

When Hope strolled past Penelope's alcove Penelope almost swallowed her tongue. Hope Mikaelson wore a backless dress except for one thin strap that stretched horizontally across her back underneath her shoulder blades. Which meant that three thin straps were all that were holding Hope's dress up. Dirty thoughts flooded Penelope's brain in one after another rapid-fire and she felt a deep blush tint her cheeks.

"That's quite a reaction you're having to my niece's dress Penelope Park. I thought you two were just friends?"

"W-We are. Ahem. I mean, we are friends."

The knowing smirks and twinkling eyes from Freya and Keelin flustered Penelope and she finished her champagne flute in two quick gulps. The cool liquid calmed her down enough for her to will the flush in her cheeks away, but she was helpless to keep ogling Hope.

Her eyes greedily drank in the smooth, bare skin of Hope's back down to just above her ass, prompting Penelope to wonder if Hope was wearing any panties at all. The gorgeous tribrid's ass filled out the dress rather well, her hips swaying hypnotically, and Penelope held her breath when Hope stopped on the ground floor in front of her family who stood above her.

The move was another power play orchestrated by her mother, having the guests stand physically beneath her and pay their respects to the High Priestess of the Park Coven. Except in this case, although Hope was the guest, she held more aristocracy and powerful lineage than Penelope's mother.

And although she was younger, Hope held more magical power than not just Isabella Park's coven but the other two sister covens as well. Morgana, no one really knew the exact nature of Hope's magic and the exact amount for that matter.

In this situation, it didn't matter though, as Penelope watched the interaction between Hope and her mother like a hawk. She couldn't hear what was being said, the alcove Penelope had taken residency in much closer to the ballroom entrance door and Hope stood across the hall on the floor below. Isabella Park's expression remained neutral and as calculating as ever, never once showing warmth or friendliness, but her expressions never changed to frustration or extreme haughtiness either.

Hope didn't curtsy, bow, or even dip her head in deference to her mother like the other guests did and Penelope could hear the murmurs amongst the crowd. Like Hope, Isabella Park didn't dip her head either, but Penelope strongly suspected that this was because her mother wouldn't give up her position of power at her family's annual winter solstice. Hope stepped away, sauntering back across the floor with a charming smirk on her face, and disappeared into the crowd.

"Hope!"

Penelope had almost forgotten that Freya Mikaelson stood in the same alcove as her, but the older witch reminded her of her presence by calling for her niece and waving her hand in the air. Hope excused herself from the conversation she found herself dragged into, giving a charming smile to others who vied for attention and before Penelope was ready, stood prettily in front of her.

"Aunt Freya. Aunt Keelin. Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Look at the little girl that thinks she's too big for her britches Keelin! She becomes the leader of New Orleans and suddenly thinks she can tell us-"

Freya's mock outrage cut off suddenly when her mouth simply vanished. It looked like the skin of her cheeks and chin ate up her lips and Penelope looked wide-eyed at Hope. Hope's eyes twinkled mischievously, and she sipped from her champagne flute. When had the Mikaelson heir uttered the chant? Had Hope cast a wordless spell?

"Yes, young one, we haven't been here long enough for my wife to cause trouble. Besides, your friend here has kept us company."

Keelin stepped forward and kissed Hope's cheek. Hope hugged her darker-skinned aunt and looked at Penelope. Penelope straightened and drew her shoulders back.

She watched as Hope's eyes trailed from her hair, down her neck, lingered on her diamond choker (score one point for Penelope as Hope's eyes darkened) and Hope's eyes stopped on the diagonal strip of skin visible in the daring cutout of her dress from her neck down across her chest and baring the side of her left breast.

"Good evening Hope Mikaelson. I was hoping I would find you here."

Penelope decided to spare Hope the task of initiating pleasantries between them, smug in the fact that she had indeed left the radiantly beautiful and immensely powerful Hope Mikaelson speechless with her presence and attire for the evening.

"And a good evening to you as well Penelope Park. You are a lovely vision in red. You seem to have stolen the words from my lips and the very breath from my lungs."

Penelope blushed and giggled at Hope's sweet compliment. The tribrid's eyes continued their sweep down Penelope's form and lingered for a few telling seconds on the way the raven-haired witch's hips filled out her dress. The hemline of her striking red dress stopped a few inches above her knees and her strappy red heels gave her some much-needed height.

A slit in the left side of her dress allowed Penelope to move easily in the clingy, tight fabric of her dress and bared her left leg almost up to her hip. Careful movements were needed to protect Penelope's modesty and unwanted glances at her panties for the evening.

"Hope, as sweet as it is to watch you flirt and employ the Mikaelson charm, do you think you can allow Freya the ability to speak again? I'm afraid steam will be coming out of her ears any minute."

Keelin's calm but amused voice broke through the swirling thick tension crackling between Hope and Penelope and Hope flushed. She boldly winked at Penelope before looking at her aunt Freya who looked torn between being proud of Hope but wanting to strangle her at the same time. Hope's lips moved but far more quickly than normal and Penelope didn't hear a chant.

"Hope Andrea Mikaelson! What did I tell you about practicing speed casting on me? And when did you get so fast?"

"Speed casting?"

Penelope butted into the impending argument between aunt and niece and looked at Hope. Hope smiled and her eyes gleamed with the joy of sharing knowledge.

"It was something Josie and I were working on together when we were…. when we had some free time as we…yeah."

"Essentially, speed casting is practicing saying the spell repeatedly until you have every nuance of the words for the spell memorized. It becomes second nature in chanting the spell and it cuts down on the time for the spell to be cast. You memorize as many spells as you can and well, you've seen the rest."

Freya stepped in when Hope faltered. Given what she now knew about Hope and Josie's relationship, Penelope wondered for what felt like the thousandth time just how much Hope cared about Josie…and if she still did. Having Josie Saltzman's love was a rush and feeling like no other, but Penelope suspected that having Hope Mikaelson's love would eclipse the love of the former.

"The groundwork is set by devoting many hours of studying spells in every aspect. The language, the cadence, the syllables of the words, the word tense, and so on. It's a commitment but if you can grasp it, you'll be lightyears ahead of the average witch. As I demonstrated."

Hope smugly rolled her hand and pointed a finger at herself after recovering from bittersweet memories.

"Hope, I know that you are not insinuating that I am simply an average witch."

Freya glared at Hope through narrowed eyes, her magic building up and swirling around her.

"Why aunt Freya I would never! Oh! Here come Josie and Lizzie. Please do excuse us aunties."

Hope grabbed Penelope's hand and pulled her away from her two aunts with a dazzling smile. The gorgeous tribrid led them away from the alcove and down one side of the upper level to the fast-approaching Saltzman twins.

Lizzie looked resplendent in a pink strapless evening gown and Josie looked stunning in a muted red cocktail dress. The fact that the two sisters seemed to have switched styles was not lost on Penelope, with Josie being the bold and daring twin for the evening but her attention was still mostly focused on the fact that Hope had yet to let go of her hand.

"Good evening to you both Josie, Lizzie. I'm glad to see some more friendly faces and you both look very nice."

"Oh! My sister and I just look 'very nice'. Is your brain addled by the she-devil that much that you can't comment on how luscious we look mutt?"

Even though Penelope hadn't seen Lizzie in a few months, the fact that the blonde Saltzman twin could deliver her trademark snark and name-calling without missing a beat didn't surprise the Park coven witch at all. Some things just were in the world, like down is south, up is north and thirty-two degrees is freezing cold. Lizzie Saltzman's snark and name-calling were just an expectation when the blonde-haired siphoner opened her mouth.

"Ignore her Hope. Lizzie is annoyed that I'm monitoring her champagne intake. Hello Penny. You both cleaned up rather nice."

Penelope gasped and fluffed her hair with her free hand. Josie's eyes deliberately slid down lower to look at how Hope held Penelope's hands and when Josie's eyes returned to meet Penelope's, Penelope smirked.

"Drinking champagne at these events is mandatory Josie! I've only had one glass and we've been here for an hour already."

"And like I said Lizzie, getting drunk at an event like this would do you more harm than good. Be patient."

Penelope rolled her eyes at Lizzie's childish wine but found it hard to be truly annoyed with the blonde Saltzman twin as Hope rubbed her thumb across the back of Penelope's hand. Their fingers slotted together perfectly and Hope's naturally warm body temperature soothed Penelope even through the small contact of their joined hands.

The striking opening chords of the waltz hummed through the air and Penelope saw this as an opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with Hope. She squeezed Hope's hand and when Hope looked up at her (Penelope's choice to wear higher than normal heels just so she could be taller than Hope as the tribrid wore her own heels made her feel smug) Penelope nodded her head out on the dance floor. Hope's answering grin and how she squeezed Penelope's hand back was confirmation enough.

"Ahem. If you would excuse us ladies, I am expected to be in the first dance for the evening. Maybe we can catch up later?"

Lizzie's eyes narrowed and she eyed both Hope and Penelope critically. Before she could say anything however Josie gripped her sister's arm and gave a knowing smile to Penelope.

"Yes, I'm sure you are quite eager to keep avoiding your mother Pen. Try not to grope Hope too much as all eyes will be on you."

"I make no promises JoJo. Have you seen Hope this evening?"

With her flirtatious comeback to Josie's double poke, Penelope guided Hope further down the second floor and to the closest staircase that would lead down to the ballroom floor. Other couples were positioned across the floor and Penelope bowed. Hope tilted her head to the side and looked like she wanted to say something but returned Penelope's bow with a graceful curtsy.

The two women stepped closer to one another, their right hands linked together, and Penelope boldly placed her hand on Hope's hip instead of on her side. Hope's eyes twinkled, her hand trailing down from Penelope's shoulder and back up again.

"I see that your penchant for causing mischief is still intact even though we are in your family home with your family and other important guests watching."

Penelope raised a single eyebrow, her eyes shining with a certain impishness.

"Like you, I have been raised to be a perfect lady but unlike you, I am not defined by it. Besides, in this opening dance, there is a particular segment that you and I must perform that will allow me to squeeze your ass. And who would I be if I didn't take every chance to squeeze the ass, I've been looking at for months now?"

Hope laughed. She tossed her head back, her eyes closed in mirth, and laughed like tinkling bells. The butterflies that had been swirling around in Penelope's stomach disappeared and her rigid posture for the waltz relaxed. Hope opened her eyes, a faint blush dusting her cheeks, but her grin was appreciative…. roguish even.

"I find it amusing that you think I am governed by the manners and etiquette of being an elitist, high-class lady. My father's disdain for high society and rules was legendary and my mom…well, she would toe the line mostly but every so often she would say fuck the rules. It's probably why my dad was drawn to her in the first place."

"I've read about your parents extensively and I've seen photos and portraits of your family. Your mother was gorgeous Hope. Any hot-blooded male would have had the hots for you mom."

"Should I be worried that you are only attracted to me because I am Hayley Marshall's daughter?"

The blush on Hope's cheeks had faded slightly but bloomed back in full force at Penelope's banter. Penelope quite liked how she could make Hope blush and she smirked. The music picked up as the band played the higher, soaring notes and Penelope led Hope through the twists and turns. Their eyes were locked on one another, never straying, and Penelope pulled Hope closer.

"Oh? Is that what we are calling…this? This thing growing between us? Physical attraction?"

"You were the one that admitted to staring at my ass for months now."

"Can you blame though? Really? You have quite a nice ass, Hope."

Executing two deft, sharp half-turns as the rhythm of the music picked up for a few short seconds allowed Penelope to sneakily grope Hope's ass like she said she would in the transition between positions. To her credit, Hope didn't flinch, her eyes still twinkling, and Penelope almost lost herself in them. Hope rarely showed such intense emotion, her family name and pedigree almost forbidding her to, and the Mikaelson heir usually only reserved such showings of emotion when in the company of close friends. And having consumed several glasses of wine.

"Mmm. So juicy. So tight and firm."

Grinning lecherously Penelope cooed overdramatically but only loud enough so Hope could hear her. Hope snorted indelicately, rolling her eyes and the two young women stepped away from one another a few moments later as the opening waltz ended. Penelope clapped along with everyone else but stiffened as her mother, father and younger brother approached.

Given the fact that many eyes were still upon her, Penelope couldn't flit away, and she strongly suspected that was her mother's plan. Hope squeezed her hand as she must have felt Penelope's unease and seen her stiffen. Isabella Park stopped in front of Penelope, eyes glinting dangerously but she still smiled.

"Penelope, so glad you remembered that your presence in the opening dance is mandatory and not something you can excuse yourself out of. You didn't come to greet us after your introduction either. Jackson was quite put out."

"Good evening mother and as you no doubt saw, I was busy talking with the other guests. I'm still heir-apparent right now am I not?"

Isabella Park's eyes flashed in a warning for Penelope's daring cheek, but Penelope smiled. Hope's soft hand kept her grounded and kept the worst of her cattiness from slipping out of her mouth. Isabella Park speared her daughter with a look and looked over at Hope before back at Penelope. This time Penelope did roll her eyes, but she turned to Hope and gestured to her mother.

"Hope Mikaelson, I would like you to meet my mother, Isabella Park for the second time this evening. Mother, I would like to introduce you to Hope Mikaelson…again. Jackson you little cutie! I love your tux."

Knowing that her mother's stormy expression would lead to yet another snide remark for Penelope's breezy introductions, Penelope squatted down and pinched her little brother Jackson's cheek. The five-year-old little boy grumbled and pushed Penelope's hand off his face.

"I want to go play. Play with me, Penny?"

As only children could, Jackson was blissfully unaware of the tension swirling above his head with Isabella Park, Hope, and Penelope. He let go of their mother's hand and held up his arms to Penelope. Without a second thought, Penelope picked him up, shifted him to one hip, and grabbed Hope's hand again.

"That sounds like an excellent idea Jackson. Let's see if we can't find ourselves some snacks and juice."

Without bothering to look at her mother again or craft some sort of satisfactory goodbye to her parents, Penelope walked away while tugging Hope along.

"He has had enough juice for today Penelope."

"Juice? Do they have apple juice? I want apple juice."

Isabella Park's parting comment fell on deaf ears with both of her children and Penelope walked away fast enough that Hope didn't have the chance to say or do anything in her goodbye to the Park parents. The three of them walked back upstairs to Penelope's former hiding spot and Penelope allowed Jackson to snag as many snacks as he could fit onto one plate. At a finger point, Penelope had Hope pick up two glasses of wine and a glass of water.

"You can slow down now Penelope. Your mother can't see us anymore and she's surrounded by well-wishers."

"You mean her sycophants and groupies. Easy there, Jackson. The food isn't going anywhere."

Penelope replied to Hope's soft comment but kept her eyes on her little brother. Her adorable little Jackson had double-fisted a snack sandwich in each hand and took alternating bites from each sandwich. When Penelope gently chided him to mind his manners, he grinned at her, crumbs littering the sides of his mouth and cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

In a word, adorable. Jackson Park and Grandma Park were the only reasons that Penelope returned to her family home and Penelope tapped Jackson on the nose.

"Jackson, I want to introduce you to someone special okay? This pretty lady right here is Hope Mikaelson. She's my friend."

"Hello, Jackson. It's so nice to meet you."

The breath that Penelope had inadvertently been holding escaped her in a slow but shaky exhale as Hope stepped closer and held out her hand for Jackson to shake. The de facto ruler of New Orleans' eyes scrunched up a little with happiness and a disarmingly warm smile twisted her pretty painted lips.

Jackson looked at Hope, then Hope's hand, and back down to his two half-eaten sandwiches. His face scrunched up with indecision and Penelope took both sandwiches from him with her free hand. Delighted, Jackson rubbed his hands together and grabbed onto Hope's hand. Even with her small stature, Hope's hand dwarfed Jackson's but she closed her fingers around his hand gently and shook.

"Hello, Hope. I'm Jackson."

"Yes, and I really like your outfit. You look quite handsome."

Jackson puffed out his chest at Hope's praise and the band started up a new song. Hope held out a hand to Jackson and smiled again.

"Do you want to dance with me cutie?"

"But you're too big!"

"Jackson…"

Penelope's cheeks flushed at the blunt honesty of her five-year-old brother but Hope chuckled and kept smiling.

"I think that you're a good enough dancer that you can make up for our differences in size."

Jackson squirmed until Penelope put him back down on the ground and he took one of Hope's hands in his. He walked out of their alcove and headed for the dance floor below. Penelope chased after him, wanting to fix his outfit and clean him up but out of the corner of her eye she saw Hope's mouth move at rapid speed. Jackson's little outfit straightened itself, the wrinkles were removed, and his mouth and hands were cleaned of any leftover food.

"Thank you, Hope. My mother would have a field day if Jackson were to step out onto the floor looking like he did."

"Relax Penelope. We're just going to dance."

Hope smiled at Penelope over her shoulder and Jackson pulled them down onto the dance floor. Penelope caught up to them, walking on Jackson's free side, and Hope guided them so they were standing next to her aunts Freya and Keelin. The women were dancing but nodded to Hope and Penelope.

Jackson looked confused again and a little frightened as many people were watching but Penelope knelt next to him and whispered in his ear. He bowed at Hope and Hope curtsied back with a smile. Penelope stood up, took one of Jackson's hands in hers and she grabbed one of Hope's hands with her other. Hope mimicked her and the three of them danced together.

Penelope laughed as she watched Hope and Lizzie twirl and spin around the dance floor to an upbeat number. Neither woman wanted to give up leading and while this normally would have resulted in an uncoordinated disaster, somehow, someway the two women made it work. Josie, Freya, and Keelin clapped rhythmically on the outskirts of the dance floor, the other guests having given up the floor once Hope, and Lizzie started going at it.

"Ah nieta, your novia is quite something and your aura is radiating something powerful."

"Abuela! When did you sneak up on me like that?"

Grandma Park stood next to Penelope and leaned against the railing, her walking stick in hand. The older witch's elegant shawl wrapped around her back at the shoulder blades and rested on her elbows and forearms. The calming smell of oranges and vanilla helped bring Penelope's heartbeat back down to normal and she hoped against hope that her grandmother wouldn't comment about her blushing when Hope and girlfriend were used in the same sentence.

"I am old child but not dead. It is nice to see you smiling and happy."

Penelope rolled her eyes but let her grandmother cover her hand with her own. The song ended and both Hope, and Lizzie curtsied before they were swept up by Josie, Freya, and Keelin.

"I think this one is different."

"What? What's different?"

Grandma Park speared Penelope with a look of disbelief, but Penelope pretended to remain clueless. A look that she normally didn't go for and she didn't quite think she pulled it off since she was hardly ever clueless.

"Your normal date choices for evenings like this are not right for you nieta or substantial enough material. This time though, this time you made a good choice."

"You can't even see her abuela."

Grandma Park scoffed and patted Penelope's hand.

"Just because I cannot conventionally see her doesn't mean that I don't know who and what your new novia is my nieta. A Mikaelson is as powerful as they are beautiful. I met the Mikaelson family a few times and I even met the former Hayley Marshall once. It is quite something to have the eyes of the Mikaelson heir on you, Penelope."

"I know abuela. I know."

The fact that Grandma Park met the Mikaelson family in their entirety didn't surprise Penelope as someone of Grandma Park's magical stature and powerful presence wouldn't be ignored. Even in her slight disgrace and after her accident Grandma Park was still someone to behold.

"And it's not often I get to tease you."

"What? What are you…? Abuela! Abuela please don't!"

Before Penelope could further dissuade her grandmother, Hope made her way back up and over to where the two Park witches stood. How Grandma Park could tell that Hope was making their way to them mystified Penelope, but she had stopped wondering about little things like that with Grandma Park long ago.

"Ah, Hope Mikaelson. I'm sure you've heard this or different variations of it all evening, but it is a pleasure to meet you face-to-face."

"That is only the fourth time I've believed the greeting to be authentic. It is my pleasure to meet you as well and the honor really is mine. I wasn't sure that you and I would actually get the time to talk."

As easily as Hope charmed her parents or the other guests here this evening, Penelope knew that Grandma Park wouldn't be caught up in the Mikaelson charm. Or she hoped. Grandma Park smiled back at Hope and patted her hand.

"The universe has a way of making sure that people talk to the right people, at the correct place and the right time. You passed muster with my son and daughter-in-law and my grandson is smitten with you. My granddaughter hasn't been able to take her eyes off you all evening as well."

"Abuela, please!"

Hope chuckled, her eyes warm but tinted several darker shades of blue and her eyes raked over Penelope again from head to toe. The simmering passion swirling in Hope's eyes along with the smidgen of possessiveness caused heat to pool low in Penelope's belly. The tribrid's eyes lingered on the diamond-studded choker around Penelope's neck and Penelope reached up to brush it with her fingers.

Hope's eyes tinted gold at the movement and she bared her teeth for a quick second before regaining her composure.

"I know the feeling Mrs. Park. I haven't been able to keep my eyes off your granddaughter either."

"Has she told you about the time that she wore her Supergirl Halloween costume for two months straight?"

"Abuela! No."

"Or how about the time that she religiously straightened her hair and streaked it with alternate colors for two weeks?"

"Now's not the time to be sharing those stories abuela."

Penelope squeezed Grandma Park's hand and shot her a warning glare, but a chuckle drew her gaze back to Hope. Hope's eyes had returned to their normal beautiful blue and her teeth flashed white as she grinned widely.

"As funny and delightful as it would be to hear stories about your granddaughter, she is right, now is not the time."

"Ah, I see. It is not that kind of evening then. I understand. There is one story that you would like to hear though, isn't there?"

"Hope? What is my abuela talking about?"

Penelope looked between Hope and Grandma Park. Hope looked apprehensive but eager, chewing on her bottom lip. Grandma Park rested back against the railing and seemed lost in her memories for a moment. The wizened and elder Park witch looked directly at Hope, her dulled and grayed-over eyes seemingly piercing the young tribrid.

"Just as you have fought and slain your monster young Mikaelson, I fought and killed my monster twenty years ago. I know that you have studied them at that school of yours a few years ago but I don't remember you ever fighting an Acheri."

Hope's entire countenance tightened, and she took a deep breath. Penelope knew why she fidgeted at the mention of the Acheri her grandmother killed but she had grown up hearing the story. Did Hope find out about it somehow?

"No, Malivore didn't release one and I am grateful. Having studied them…. you are extremely fortunate to still be living Mrs. Park."

Grandma Park spoke slow and measured as she always did when re-telling the story but the usual distancing and neutrality in her tone was suspiciously absent. Penelope wondered what reason her grandmother could have for this and if she saw something in Hope that would compel her to be almost familiar with Hope. Like they were two female warriors commiserating over a monster-slaying.

"Si, si, I am. The Acheri named Malinche had been the bane of the Park coven's existence for almost a century before I trained and studied hard enough to kill it. My late husband Pedro, may God rest his soul, went with me and if not for him, I not only would have failed in killing Malinche but would have died as well."

"I've read that the Acheri took his form before you killed it."

"Si, Malinche was devious and cunning as she was powerful. She took the form of a little girl at first but when Pedro and I weren't fooled she pulled another idea out of her bag of tricks. You see, Acheri can turn invisible to mess with their prey and Malinche did just that. After a while, Pedro and I got around that trick by limiting her range of motion with iron and salt lines."

"Two of the Acheri's weaknesses."

"Si, si. Very smart of you to remember. Malinche then would turn visible and take Pedro's form but I wasn't fooled. When you love someone as hard and for as long as Pedro and I loved each other we could easily spot the differences or know when something isn't quite right. In a fit of frustration, Malinche brought the heavy stone balcony down on top of them with her strength."

Penelope squeezed her grandmother's arm with her hand and rubbed her back. Grandma Park smiled at her and continued.

"Now, Pedro was a normal human man, and he couldn't get out of the way in time. Malinche had already taken my sight and I wasn't aware of the different ways to see without eyes just yet. But Malinche's anger proved to be her undoing as she trapped herself underneath that rubble too. All I had to do at that point was end it."

Grandma Park finished her story and a heavy, tense silence settled over the three women for a couple of moments. Hope opened her mouth to speak but Penelope stopped her by holding up a hand. The younger Park coven witch knew that her grandmother wasn't upset or distraught at having retold the story but was simply lost in her memories of what was, what happened, and what could have been. With a heavy sigh, Grandma Park returned to the present and reached out for Hope's hands. When Hope put her hands in Grandma Parks the older woman smiled and squeezed them.

"You are young Hope Mikaelson and have had to endure so much. Even though you have slain your monster in Malivore, I fear that the world isn't quite done with you yet. Stay strong my dear and remember that you are not alone in all of this. Now, I fear I have left my students alone for far too long and must continue my lessons in high society etiquette. Enjoy the evening you two lovely girls and I expect to see you both for lunch tomorrow."

With that parting comment, Grandma Park shuffled away with her walking stick and Penelope chuckled at Hope's wide-eyed and open mouth expression. She pulled the other girl closer by the hand and her gaze was drawn to Hope's cleavage by something shiny. Upon closer inspection, Penelope saw that it was a resplendent and thin drop-down diamond necklace.

"See something you like Penny?"

"I wasn't…I didn't mean to…. I'm sorry."

Hope chuckled and stepped closer to Penelope. She angled her torso so more of her cleavage was visible and she cupped Penelope's cheek.

"I wore this dress for you, Penelope. I would be offended if you didn't look."

The swirling tension between the two young women all but electrified Penelope and she took a deep shuddering breath when Hope took a step back. She snagged two glasses of wine off a passing waiter's tray and offered one to Hope.

It felt like electrical sparks surged down from her fingertips and up her arm when her fingers brushed with Hope's and Penelope cleared her throat. The desire for the other woman made her muscles taut and her body felt like a pulled back bowstring.

"What made you want to know about Grandma Park's slaying of the Acheri?"

Hope took a sip of her wine and swirled the contents of her glass around.

"It's not often that I hear of monsters being slain by people other than me or the former Super Squad. My parents were notorious for the killing of their own kind and quite a few monsters, but the mythical supernatural beats of legend seemed to have been swallowed up by Malivore until recently. Your grandmother's a legend in the supernatural world and I wanted to hear the story firsthand."

"The slaying of the Acheri is the only reason my grandmother is a member of the Park Coven."

"Oh?"

Penelope turned to look out over the balcony with her wineglass in hand. Her grandmother had resumed her previous spot across the way with people surrounding her. Lizzie and Josie were talking with some of the more moderate witches in another elder coven. Her parents and Jackson were standing in their usual spot front and center overlooking the evening's happenings with stoic faces.

"Grandma Park took on the responsibility of slaying the Acheri because it was the only thing, she could do to overshadow the fact that she broke one hundred years of tradition by marrying a human instead of another witch or warlock. My grandmother married for love and was almost cast out of the coven by my mother because of it."

"I thought your mother was more liberal than that with her beliefs?"

Penelope scoffed at Hope's question and glared at her mother even though she knew her mother couldn't see her.

"Appearances are everything to the Park hive and especially my mother's coven. My grandmother spurned all of her witch and warlock suitors and pursued my grandfather Pedro."

"Penelope, I know about your grandmother's marriage because I read everything I could about her. I was just surprised at how cold your mother is to your grandmother. We can talk about something else if you want."

Hope's soft voice and how she offered an easy way out of the emotionally turbulent made Penelope smile. She decided to take Hope up on her offer and took a deep breath because she knew her choice of discussion had the potential to sour the evening entirely. Still, curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back. Or in for a penny…

"I spoke with Josie a few days ago and after an unhealthy amount of wine she told me what happened between the two of you."

"Ah, I see."

Hope's reaction was rather anticlimactic, but Penelope knew that the Mikaelson's were particularly good at hiding their emotions and Hope could teach a masterclass on it. Since she didn't get an overtly negative reaction Penelope decided to prod a little more.

"I like you, Hope. We're good friends, probably best friends, and I'll admit that I want something more. But both of us dated Josie and well, she's special."

"You want to know that if we decide to follow this spark between us that I won't drop you and go running back to Josie at the first sign that she's willing to reconnect."

Penelope chewed on her bottom lip, her heart in her throat and eyes wide but she nodded. Hope drained her wineglass in one gulp and gently placed it on the decorative railing. Her eyes snapped up and Penelope swore she could see the storm clouds in them, but Hope's next question made her breath catch in her throat.

"What do you want to know?"