Elijah Mikaelson's apartment is... fancy, to say the least. All slick, shiny surfaces carefully paired with older- but no less shiny - decorative items that were probably made in the early 1700s. Eloise feels uncomfortable standing among the pristine white furniture, because she's pretty sure that if she actually steps into the room she's going to get it dirty. Like, it looks like one of those fancy shmancy apartments that people don't actually live in but home and garden magazines like to use for their advertisements? You know, the ones with the open floor plans, ridiculously big windows overlooking an equally ridiculous view, and not-white furniture paired with sleek silver tables covered in pretty vases and the like? Fancy. Eloise fights not to kick her shoes off at the door so she can follow Elijah into the kitchen without feeling like a heathen.

"Nice view?" Eloise winces at the questioning tone of her voice as she leans against the front of the shiny granite island.

"It's tolerable," he says it like it's not one of the most expensive views in Whitmore, "I think you'd much prefer the view of Paris."

"I'll take your word for it." Eloise says just as Elijah places an unrealistically clean looking glass in front of her, it's filled with water and perfect square ice cubes and Eloise is thankful for the mild distraction from her discomfort.

"Have you ever left the country, Miss Brathwaite?" Elijah asks as he slowly drifts to the living room.

Eloise follows, grip firm around her glass, and says, "My parents used to take my siblings and I to Puglia when I was younger to visit my grandparents but, uh, that was a long time ago."

The reminder of why she's here makes Elijah's easygoing grin harden a bit but he doesn't look too hostile from what Eloise can see. Just to be sure, Eloise puts as much space between herself and Elijah as possible in the hopes that it'll give her more reaction time. It's probably a fool's hope but Eloise seriously doubts Elijah's going to try and tear out her throat in the next few minutes.

"You seem very fond of your family." Elijah says, testing turbulent waters with soft words to see what kind of reaction he's going to get.

Shrugging, Eloise says, "Sometimes. I come from a very long line of powerful witches with views that are a little more, um, out of the box than most."

"I've never heard of the Brathwaite family."

"You wouldn't have, for the most part my family did their own thing. Stayed in the shadows, avoided other supernatural beings, kept to themselves, and we didn't have a recognized coven name to help us fly under the radar, so I wouldn't expect you or anyone in your family to have heard of us." Eloise says, which is only kind of a lie.

Her coven hadn't had a recognized name but within the coven they'd jokingly refereed to themselves as the Triskelion. Because aside from the symbol representing the motion of action, progress, cycles, and the like, it also - in it's own way - represented the children born into the coven. Three children to represent the mind, the body, and the soul, three children born to each family to represent the continuation of the craft and all the knowledge accumulated over the generations. It sounded really cool when she and the younger members of her family were growing up. Now? Eloise thinks they might have been more aware of the situation than a child has any right to be. She takes a sip of her water to hide her frown.

"Is there a reason your family keeps to the shadows? You make it seem as though the majority of the supernatural community is a danger to you." Elijah says, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I mean, they kind of are. My family specializes in Expression and most witches don't even see it as a form of magic, everyone else just kind of fears what we can do."

"Expression? You're a practitioner of dark magic?" Elijah asks and the tone of his voice is sharp enough to slice through stone.

Eloise holds up a finger, "I'm gonna stop you right there. Expression is a manifestation of a witch's will, it's not inherently dark. When you use Expression you're puling energy from other dimensions and it enhances the power you've already got while giving you a little bit extra. Witches who've never dealt with Expression have such a hard time with it because they're usually turning to it as a last resort, you know, to hurt people? Negative emotions tend to feed into dark magic and when it's paired with the power Expression can give it doesn't end well."

"And you're saying you can control that kind of power?"

"I," Eloise glances to the side then turns back to Elijah, "I wouldn't say I'm a master at anything and there's really no controlling Expression but... Look, my coven's Leaders taught us incredible self control, they also had our parents teach us different forms of magic so that we could better understand the situations and emotions involved with them. I can use Expression to regrow forests that were cut down centuries ago or I could use it to slaughter every human in Chicago in a matter of days. I wouldn't, but I could."

"By yourself? Seems a little irresponsible to teach children how to do such things." Elijah says before he pauses, eyes drifting toward the window for a moment before cutting back to Eloise, "Why are you no longer with your coven if it's so dangerous for you to be away from them?"

It's a valid question but not one Eloise is totally comfortable sharing. But she decides to anyway because getting it over with is better than leaving it a secret between them that could one day be used against her. Eloise plucks at a loose thread in her shirt.

"Uh, when I turned fifteen one of our coven leaders died, my great grandmother actually, and after she died the coven started performing this ritual to find the next one - there always has to be three right? So we needed to find the third one pretty quick, or that's what everyone in the coven thought. Our coven leaders weren't chosen because of age or experience, they were chosen based on their power and when one dies the thought is that another witch's powers will grow stronger." Eloise licks her lip and decides not to get into the intricacies and politics of stepping into that dreaded position of coven authority. "So, yeah, we performed the ritual, sacrificed some woman who didn't do anything to us and, I don't know, things didn't go the way I expected them to."

"It was you." Elijah states to which Eloise nods.

"Yeah. It shouldn't have been, I wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility and I was already questioning some of the actions of the coven and I just... Look, I did a lot of, uh, questionable things when I was with the coven, a lot of them I'm not proud of and some I'm afraid to admit that I don't regret or feel bad about. The relationship I have with my family is pretty complicated but I love them, you know? I just didn't see myself being what they needed me to be."

"And now? Do you have the same reservations?" Elijah asks, fingers drumming against the soft cream fabric of his chair.

Eloise shrugs and slowly responds with a firm, "I wouldn't kill an innocent woman for a ritual or anything, but no. Getting away from the coven? Seeing the thing's I've seen and doing what I've done? I can't say that I would be an amazing coven leader but I think I'd be more suited to the role now than I would have been then."

Elijah nods slowly, takes in everything she's said, and then asks, "Why have you not returned to your family then?"

"Honestly? We didn't part on great terms, first of all, and I also really like my life now. I'm not surrounded by my family members night and day, I'm not obligated to participate in rituals that don't sit well with me, and I'm not responsible for fifty people. While I could go back, it's not something I want right now."

She's only twenty-two anyway. Stepping into the role of a coven leader wouldn't have happened until she turned eighteen or nineteen at the very least, so it's not like she's left the coven hanging. They've probably already elected someone else. Eloise couldn't have been the only person whose power influx came with the death of Florence Brathwaite. And on the off chance that it did - which she hopes isn't the case because fuck - there are other leaders, which means that when they die someone else will step into their places. Triskelions always have three spirals. Should Eloise decide later on that she wants to return home and reconcile with everyone she can, probably, but not yet, not when she's so incredibly content with her life and where she's at in it.

"Is that why you're so willing to help my brother?"

Eloise shakes her head as she says, "Not really. While I think the curse itself if pretty shitty, I won't delusion myself into thinking I have any real sentimental attachment tying myself to Klaus."

"Then why help him? Or myself for that matter?" Elijah asks.

"Damon's my person. I don't care what happens to the rest of them but Damon is mine, and the rest of the Mystic Falls Scooby Gang are Damon's. I'm just doing what little damage control I can to make sure none of my people end up on the chopping block."

Elijah stares for a long moment, coffee bean eyes darker with the barely there smears of blue under his eyes. He looks older than his age, which can't be much older than mid-to-late twenties? There's a very distinct wrinkling around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes that aren't, you know, bad, they just hint at him having lived a rough life before the transition. Which can't be far off. How old is he? A thousand and some years older than her? Elijah would have been born in a time period where you had to fight and labor just to have a chance at surviving to an old age. So yeah, he looks a little more mature, a little older, but Eloise can confidentially place him somewhere in his twenties despite the age the bags under his eyes and the barely-there lines try to add on... or maybe it's just the hair.

He has terrible fucking hair.

"How did you meet Damon Salvatore might I ask?" Elijah offers one of those I'm-genuinely-not-understanding-why-you-give-a-shit-but-I'm-trying smiles and tacks on a slow, "He seems to inspire a great deal of loyalty despite his more, shall we say, aggressive tendencies?"

The accent totally makes up for the bad hair.

"We met not long after I got away from the coven. We ran into each other and Damon offered me a place to stay, I wasn't in a position to say no, we just clicked." Eloise says, giving a horribly watered down version of what actually happened that evening.

"I see."

Eloise is fairly certain he doesn't but smartly keeps her mouth shut. Elijah isn't accusing her of anything, he's not accusing Damon of anything, and so she's going to let this entire awkward conversation slide without a fuss. The less fuss either of them make of this situation the better. Besides, Elijah doesn't seem too concerned about her relationship with Damon. In fact, he seems too unconcerned. Like he doesn't really care about her relationship with Damon but her answer seems to have proven something to him. Eloise begins spinning the amethyst ring around her thumb to keep herself from tucking both hands beneath her thighs - a nervous habit she's had since she was a kid. For a moment Eloise wonders if Elijah's got any weird habits that have stuck with him since his youth but quickly brushes the thought away. Elijah's been alive too long and he's too put together, so any nervous ticks he might have retained have probably been brutally uprooted or smothered so as not to possibly ruin the image he presents. Dangerous men in suits don't bite their nails or crack their knuckles so why would he?

"What do you plan to do with Klaus?" Elijah asks and the question catches her off guard.

"I'm sorry?"

"Klaus, what do you plan to do with him?"

"Uh, well, I was hoping you could help me with that. You know? A favor for a friend kind of thing?"

"Is that what we are? Friends?" there's something about the look he's giving her that Eloise isn't really prepared to analyse in depth.

"Why not? I bond quick." realizing what she's just admitted, because she does bond quickly and Elijah's starting to become something more than just a stranger she's afraid of, Eloise begins back tracking, "I mean, you know, we've already kidnapped people together so I guess there's nothing more friendship inducing than that? Or maybe since I gave you the dagger you might be willing to help me out just because you feel like it? Or maybe, also, because you don't actually plan on killing Klaus and I think we can all find a way to work this out? You know, together? Teamwork, yay..." Eloise babbles, embarrassed and flustered and maybe even a little panicky because why is he looking at me like that?

"What do you want from me, Miss Brathwaite?"

"Do you have Klaus' number or maybe an email address? Some way for me to contact him at least?"

Elijah leans back in his chair, the dark charcoal of his suit a stark contrast to the lighter fabric framing him. It's symbolism, Eloise knows it. Fortunately for her, Elijah doesn't look like he's going to fly off the handle and start ripping into her for suggesting that he contact Klaus for her when she knows how he currently feels about the hybrid. It's nice to know that that delicious suit- and the rest of the house - isn't about to be bathed in her blood. Eloise swallows the lump in her throat as subtly as she can so that Elijah doesn't pick up on her nerves. Though, something tells her she's already failed at that. Because tensions only grow the longer Elijah remains quiet and even he finally does speak Eloise feels like she's about to burst at the seams.

"I'm afraid I'm no longer in Klaus' inner circle so I'm uncertain of how to contact him, but I believe I know someone who can." Elijah turns murky coffee-bean eyes on her and continues with a vaguely threatening, "I'll reach out to him for you on one condition."

"Condition?"

"Yes, I would like a favor in return." Elijah says.

"OK? Like, is this going to be some sort of weird hush-hush favor that's going to end up with me in a hole or...?" Eloise moves her hands out in front of her, swirling them in a way that suggests she wants him to finish her sentence but is more than willing to assume.

Oddly enough, it makes Elijah laugh.

"No, nothing of the sort. I merely require a magical favor."

"Depending on your favor I probably could still end up six feet under."

The look he gives her speaks of fond amusement. Eloise only knows because it was the same look her father used to give her when she did something he found too humorous to be mad about. Only, this look isn't the exact same as the one her father sued to paint across his features so easily, but they're similar enough that Eloise brushes off the prickling at the base of her skull and folds her arms over her stomach.

"Klaus took something from me, I'd like you to do a locator spell."

"Uh, what kind of something?"

"Does it matter?"

Eloise gives him an unimpressed look before saying, "You've spent enough time with witches that you should know the answer to that already. If the thing he took is inanimate then it's going to require different things than finding something that's, you know, alive." his silence is more than answer enough so Eloise sighs through her nose to get rid of some of the tension, "I'll need a map and some of your blood."

"Excuse me?"

"For your locator spell."

"So we have a deal I take it."

"You get me Klaus and I'll find whoever it is your looking for." Eloise promises.

Because it can't be too difficult. Eloise comes from a very long line of powerful witches, the magic of her ancestors flows through her veins and bends to her will. Having used Expression for years before - and a little bit after - her separation from the coven has made Eloise all the more away of the limits and risks of certain spells, it's one of the reasons dark magic doesn't scare her. Finding someone for Elijah Mikaelson can't be that difficult. As Elijah rises to hopefully go find a map or contact his informant Eloise makes for the kitchen because it'll be the easiest place in the house to clean should things get messy. A knife is gathered from the block next to the stove and placed on the island along with a fluffy white hand towel that Elijah's going to have to replace. Once everything's set up Eloise sits at the island and waits for Elijah, who comes strolling in a few moments later with a tense look and a large map under his arm. When he spreads it across the island Eloise sees that it's a world map.

She traces her fingers over the Netherlands before pulling away to straighten out the map.

"Roll up your shirt sleeve, please." Eloise says as she takes up the knife.

Thankfully, Elijah doesn't protest. Shucking off his suit jacket he lays the fabric over the back of the chair before unbuttoning his cuff and carefully rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He ends up looking like a model off of Vogue or something and it's totally unfair that he's that good looking. Huffing lowly under her breath, Eloise grabs hold of Elijah's wrist so she can pull it over the map and drags the blade of the knife across the flesh of his outer arm.

Blood, warm and red and glistening spills across the map. A small puddle of red that sits over the Atlantic ocean like some ominous warning. When his arm stops bleeding Eloise hands him the towel and puts away the knife before leaning over the map to begin muttering in Latin. She watches, transfixed, as the blood begins pulling toward America's East Coast, creeping across New Hampshire and into Vermont before compressing itself into New York. Eloise glances at Elijah and finds him staring at the spot in... disbelief? Horror? Sadness? It's too hard to tell but she knows the emotion on his face isn't exactly a happy one.

"Are you certain the spell is correct?"

"I just asked it to show me where the person you lost is, if you want something more specific I'm going to need a bigger map and more specific information." Eloise says.

"My brother may have a witch hiding them from me."

"Who?"

"My siblings. Klaus has them daggered... he told me he tossed them into the sea."

"And you believed him?" at the reprimanding look Elijah shoots her, Eloise sighs, "Look, it's possible a witch is cloaking your siblings but I can still find them."

"How?"

Eloise rolls her eyes and says to the Original, "By finding the only place a tracking spell can't find? It's literally like the easiest way around a cloak."

"I didn't think witches could do that."

"Most witches are taught conventional magic, getting around a cloaking spell is practically child's play." Eloise carefully folds the map up and tosses it into the trash.

It'll be touch and go as there are probably witches hiding themselves from people who aren't Elijah Mikaelson, but it should be easy to narrow down places he doesn't have to visit. Getting around a cloaking spell may be child's play but it's not an exact science, Eloise doesn't tell Elijah that though because he's already questioned her ability once today and she's not cool with that. In fact, she hates when people ask her whether or not her spells work or not as it feels like an attack on her person. Prideful. Eloise knows her faults at least.

"But of course, I shouldn't expect anything less of a witch who practices Expression." Elijah retorts, tone biting and scathing under all that accented charm.

"Tone it down, Judgmental Joe." Eloise glares, "I'm not all powerful, ok? So cut back on the attitude. I'm just good at figuring out loopholes, any witch worth her salt could do the same."

Seemingly chastised Elijah nods once before turning and making for another part of the house. Eloise rolls her eyes but doesn't linger on the bitterness rising in her chest. Elijah can think whatever he wants about her. It wouldn't be the first time another supernatural being has reacted poorly to her using Expression. A powerful energy source it may be, but not one easily manipulated. Most witches end up going crazy, or getting pulled so far down the rabbit hole that there's no helping them later on down the road when they realized they fucked up. One of the reasons Eloise's coven had been so big is because the more people aware of how Expression works the more people there are to help guide you through a spell or ritual, which really helps when people begin slipping up.

Eloise wipes down the island, tosses the soiled towel into the sink, and waits for Elijah to return with another map. The fact that he seems to have so many is wild but not totally unreasonable. Eloise knows a vampire from Seattle that keeps all sorts of things in her house in case one of her witches needs something, because it's better to be save than sorry. Is Elijah the same? Does he believe in keeping things like maps and candles around for his witches in case he needs them to do a spell? Or had he been planning on using one of the Martins to find Klaus? Eloise doesn't know, pretends she doesn't care, and sits herself on one of the padded stools just as Elijah comes back into the kitchen with a handful of travel maps.

"Will these suffice?" He asks as he places them out on the island in front of her.

There are three, all of them perfectly folded and sporting a picture of a plant or an animal of some sort. Eloise plucks one off the pile and spreads it out, looking at the little cities and roads and other assorted landmarks peppered across the paper. It'll work. Silently, she reaches for the knife and Elijah holds his arm out to her so that she can spill his blood again. Only this time she begins chanting out a couple of words in Old Dutch. The spell is one her family has carried around for centuries. Ever since the middle ages when one of her ancestors developed the spell in order to find one of his enemies. Or something. Eloise never paid much attention to her family history, too enthralled with learning spells and participating in rituals she'd thought were fascinating at the time.

Red spreads across the map as she chants. Occasionally she's forced to draw more blood from Elijah's body so that the spell can continue doing its work but he doesn't seem too mind so Eloise doesn't feel too bad about it and by the time the spell's been cast all but five small circles of the map have been covered in a thick blanket of red. Eloise goes to put the knife in the sink and wash her hands before pulling out her phone. She doesn't want blood all over the screen ok? Sew her. Eloise takes her seat the island again and types out the first location in the search bar.

"What are you doing?" Elijah asks as he peers over her shoulder.

"Trying to cut back on the places you need to visit." Eloise says.

"That's unnecessary." Elijah tells her.

"Why? I've already ruled out one." She says, unless Klaus has a thing for little old lady florists.

"We can't say who lives in any of the houses, while one or two may be more fitted to hide my sibling's I can't risk Klaus catching wind of us knowing where they are." Elijah's tone doesn't allow for arguments.

Eloise turns to look at him, "So what do you want to do?"

"Klaus will come for Elena once he catches wind of another doppelganger. He'll want to keep our siblings close so I doubt he'll leave them behind."

"Still a mighty big risk to take isn't it? What if he does leave them?"

Elijah smiles at her and Eloise thinks it's more predatory than reassuring.

"Then I'll simply have to remember the locations of the map and have a few of my people look into them while he's too far away to do anything about it."

"Right. Got it," Eloise takes a picture of the map and then proceeds to toss it in the trash, when she looks back at Elijah she decides to change the subject, "What are you going to do about Augustine?"

"All in good time, my dear," Elijah promises, "for now I believe it's time to return you to your car."

Not seeing any reason to fight him on it Eloise nods once and heads for the apartment door, jumping only slightly when Elijah appears out of thin air to hold it open for her. He looks like he hasn't just spent the better part of the last hour letting Eloise cut him open and spill his blood all over the counter. Ridiculous. Eloise blows a loose hair out of her face as she steps passed him into the hall where she waits for Elijah to lock up his apartment before moving for the elevator. Only, she never actually makes it because one second she's making her way down the hall and the next someone's wrapping they're arms around her and then when she's able to comprehend anything she's in the passenger seat, Elijah's behind the wheel, and they're pulling out onto the main road leading away from Elijah's apartment. The vampire in the seat beside her looks entirely too proud of himself so Eloise is forced to spend the rest of the ride silently looking out the window pretending her face isn't burning and the reason she's not looking at Elijah is because she's embarrassed. Because she's not. Embarrassed. Annoyed, maybe, yep, totally annoyed. How dare he manhandle her? Soft laughter comes from the man beside her, forcing Eloise to huff loudly and turn more toward the door. It only makes Elijah's laughter more prominent. At least someone's happy with the proceedings of today she supposes. Eloise curls up tighter in the seat, rests her head against the window, and focuses on the sound the muffler doesn't quite manage to hide instead of the deep baritone laughter coming from beside her. It's going to be a long ride back to Mystic Falls. Eloise thinks that maybe it won't be that bad.