Hey guys! I know it's been a hot minute, but you know, life and the way things are shaping up in the show really got me down. Also, I've only got the bares of bones of an idea with which to continue this so that should be fun. Seriously, any input is more than welcome. That said, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Read, review and enjoy!
Is Hope more fond of heels or boots?
Hayley was in the kitchen when her phone buzzed and, picking it up, she stared at Klaus's text for a few minutes, trying uselessly to formulate a response before giving up and just calling him. "Firstly," She began speaking as soon as he picked up, not even allowing him a moment in which to say 'hello.' "Hope is fifteen, she'll love both. Secondly, do you even know her foot size? Thirdly, why? I hardly think bribery is going to help you achieve much of anything with her right now."
"Well, hello to you too, Hayley," Klaus replied sarcastically once she finally paused. "I'm fine, yourself? How's New Orleans treating you?" The vampire could hear the grin in his voice as he teased her. It was definitely clear where her daughter's dramatic nature came from. At the very least, it kept life amusing when she wasn't rolling her eyes. "What am I doing? Oh nothing much," Klaus continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Just trying to rebuild my relationship with my daughter - with absolutely no help from her mother, might I add."
Hayley found a grin forming on her own lips as she imagined the father of her child raising an eyebrow in mock indignance. Balancing the phone with her shoulder, she pulled out a mug as she spoke, filling it with some coffee. "Well," she interjected, "is it my fault her father automatically goes for bribery instead of, I don't know, picking up the phone like a normal person?"
"Normal is overrated, Hayley! And oh, so dull! Besides, based on past precedent, nothing works so well as some old fashioned bribery." Well, he did have a point there, she had to give him that. "Also, I already asked Freya for Hope's shoe size," Klaus added on as an afterthought - as if knowing Hope's shoe size meant he was now obligated to buy her a pair.
Hayley had to bite her lip so as not to burst into laughter, suggesting instead that he might as well then also "throw in a book on vampires as a joke."
"I want to," the hybrid told her, annoyance seeping into his voice. "But all I could find was that sparkly nonsense and somehow, I'm doubting that Hope's learned italian during her time at Caroline's school."
"Well, you're not wrong… maybe a leather jacket? Nothing says 'rebellious phase' than one of those and Hope's definitely entered hers." She spiked her coffee with some blood, God only knew she needed all the energy she could get when it came to this family.
Klaus paused, considering the idea for a moment. "Now that's being helpful, Hayley."
"Thanks, I try," came the dry response. "Don't go too overboard. Hope just wants to get to know you and a boatload of presents isn't exactly going to be particularly helpful with that."
"I know," Klaus sighed. "Getting back into Bekah's good graces was so much easier."
"Yeah, well, your sister has had a hell of a lot more time to get used to you being an ass. I'm sure Hope will catch up soon enough."
Klaus hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe we do need therapy, all things considered."
"Mm, yeah, somehow ahead of you on that. Caroline called me up to ask if it was ok to put Hope in counseling," Hayley interjected after gulping down the rest of her drink. Features morphing into a frown as a thought occurred to her, she asked, "does it make me a bad mom for not even thinking of that as an option before she mentioned it?"
Klaus snorted. "You? A bad mother? It'll be a cold day in Hell."
"I am pretty awesome," the vampire agreed with a grin.
"Modest too," came the sarcastic retort.
"Hey, Hope had to get it from somewhere!"
"So most likely Marcel, then, no?" Hayley's exaggerated gasp of indignation left them both in peals of laughter.
Thursdays, Hope decided, were the absolute worst. You'd think, what with the weekend being so near, that Thursdays wouldn't be so bad, but you'd be wrong. They were awful, awful, awful. Honestly, by the time they rolled around, you were typically exhausted after a long week and they always feel longer than any other day. Besides, this particular Thursday, Roman had practically ambushed her to try and 'apologise' or whatever and, like she'd already told him, she didn't want his stupid apology. Plus, her dumb counseling sessions which, she should mention, were completely dumb and unnecessary, were scheduled for Thursdays. Also there was always that one teacher who thought a pop quiz was an amazing idea. So by the time she let herself in her dorm, Hope was emotionally and physically drained, ready to fall face first onto her bed.
Well, until the parcel that was carefully perched on her desk caught her eye. Curiosity piqued, she dumped her bag onto the floor and picked up the box, moving to sit on her bed, carelessly ripping off the paper once she was comfortable and tossing it aside. Taped to the lid was a small envelope, her name scrawled elegantly on top. Half a dozen different possibilities presenting themselves to her, Hope searched the box for a return address, her heart racing. Upon finding 'Klaus Mikaelson' neatly printed on the discarded paper that had covered the parcel, a rush of emotions flowed through her, ranging from confusion to elation to anger that it had taken him so long. She set the letter aside for the moment, though, unsure if she wanted to read it just yet, choosing instead to look through the contents of the box first.
Lying atop Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' was a small charm bracelet, a single charm attached - that of a crown. Both items made her smile despite herself, the small note inside the book informing her that her father couldn't bring himself to buy her 'Twilight' raising a giggle to her lips. At the very least, Klaus had class, she had to give him that. Lastly, underneath the book, she found a pair of gorgeous leather boots, insanely soft to the touch and clearly ridiculously comfortable. Hope couldn't wait for an opportunity to wear them. Unfortunately, as much as she was afraid of what it would say, she couldn't put off reading his letter any longer. Slipping on the bracelet and placing everything else to the side, she leaned back against the headboard and picked up the envelope, trembling fingers running carefully over her name on the front before flipping it over to open it and pull out the letter inside.
My dearest Hope,
I'm not quite sure where to begin. Your Uncle Elijah liked to compare me to a Shakespearean character, but I'm afraid words often fail me when I need them most. I suppose that firstly apologies are in order. I cut myself off from you and your mother in order to protect you but I had never imagined that by doing so, I would only cause you more pain and I am so, so sorry for what my actions led to.
I misspoke when we met and I regret not telling you then that you are absolutely perfect as you are. Nothing will ever change that fact, not now, not ever - no matter what anyone says. You are perfect as you are and yourself is all I ever ask you to be. I am sorry that you had to encounter anyone who would tell you that what you are, what you have the potential to be, is unnatural, is anything less than wonderful, because it is not and they could not be more wrong.
Your mother was right, always and forever is my promise to the both of you - and it is one I will fulfill to the best of my ability. I have ignored my responsibility to you for far too long and always and forever is no less than what you deserve as my daughter, as a Mikaelson.
I cannot ask you not to dwell upon recent events, but please, do not blame yourself for what happened. If anyone is at fault, it is myself, my actions that led to the choices you and Hayley had to make. But your mother will be fine, I will make certain of it. What happened to her may have been unavoidable given the circumstances, but it is not irreversible.
If you'd allow me, Hope, I want to be a larger part of your life. I promise to be a better father than I have been in the past. At the very least, I'd love the opportunity to try. I don't know when we might be able to meet in person again, when it will be safe for us to do so, but at the very least, I can promise to pick up the phone when you call.
Forever yours,
Your father.
As she read the letter, tears formed in Hope's eyes, tracking tears down her cheeks without her realising it until they dripped down onto the paper she held in her hands. It was everything she had wanted to hear from her father for so long, she didn't quite know what to do now that she had. For years, he had been this… this larger than life figure, this fairytale prince but according to so many others, also this dangerous villain, she had no idea what he'd be as just her dad. And as much as she wanted to know, she was afraid of the answer, afraid that he wouldn't live up to figure she'd created in her mind, built from her mother's stories.
A knock on her office door had Caroline look up from her computer, calling out a soft "come in" as she did so. The vampire was surprised to see Hope Mikaelson lingering shyly in the doorway, although she quickly schooled her expression into one of polite interest. "Hello, Hope. Can I help you with anything?"
The teenager took a deep breath before dropping into the chair in front of Caroline's desk. "You're the most unbiased person I know," she began, Caroline humming in quiet confusion. "I was wondering - can you tell me about my dad? You said you knew him."
The question threw the blonde for a moment, dozens of memories flashing through her mind as she thought of what to say. "God, where should I begin? As I mentioned before, I was a little older than yourself when I first met him. He was… well, he was pretty different."
"Dangerous," was the word her mind provided and, although she didn't say it, Hope did. "Everything I've heard apart from what my Mom or Marcel told me was that he wasn't exactly good."
Caroline huffed out a laugh, picking up a pen to fiddle with it. "Is anyone? Believe me, Hope, none of my closest friends were always particularly good people."
"What do you mean?"
"After a while, the lines - they start blurring. Sure, Klaus has a lot more to answer for than most, but at the end of day, I'd trust him to do just about anything for the ones he cares for. He was… is ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, but if I'm being honest, I think Elijah was always more so. He just… dressed it up better than Klaus did." A short laugh escaped her lips, "then again, Klaus always did love his dramatics."
"He wants to be a part of my life again," Hope blurted out. "I want him in my life too but… I'm scared."
Caroline paused then, smiling softly before speaking. "Your dad's changed a lot from the person he was when I first met him, but he never really was the psychopath everyone, including himself, made him out to be. I can't say I agree with his methods, but I also can't say that we never used them for our own ends when we needed to." Caroline placed her hand on the table, palm facing up in an open invitation, gripping Hope's hand tightly when the teenager slowly lifted it to rest against the blonde's. "I don't know what it is you're looking for from me," she began, meeting Hope's eyes, "but what I do know is that Klaus loves you like no one he's ever loved before. And I know if you let him back into your life, he probably won't disappoint."
"One day, I'm going to bring you and Hope to Italy." There was a smile tucked away inside Klaus's languidly spoken declaration, gentle and soft - looking content in a way he rarely ever was and Hayley wondered what he had been doing before this call. "It's got history," he continued, "and somehow, none of it my own."
"Huh, is that even possible?" She teased, a grin playing about her own lips as she met his eyes through the slightly pixelated video.
"Let's just say I made sure to bury any remnants myself." There was an almost imperceptible edge to his words, but it soon melted away, neither of them willing to pursue the subject. "Besides, the city can survive a few weeks without you - at the very least, we'll get to see how capable Vincent really is at keeping it from burning to the ground."
"I could use a holiday…" Hayley began contemplatively before declaring, "I've had enough of ancient history though. What else can Italy offer me?"
"I'm sure we'll find something." That smile was more mischievous now, amusement bleeding into his words and filling Hayley with warmth. "Perhaps I'll bore you with visits to art museums, if nothing else."
"Try that and I'll show you exactly where you can shove all that art," she told him without missing a beat. Klaus only snorted, muttering something about her lack of culture which she promptly ignored. The conversation turned eventually to New Orleans, as it often did, Hayley filling in the hybrid on the latest gossip. "The bayou is in full celebration mode," she told him, not bothering to hide her own excitement. "There are babies on the way and everyone always loves it when there are going to be new additions to the pack. I think Cindy's a little overwhelmed with all the attention, actually." From there, it was an easy skip to their own family - mainly bemoaning the trademark Mikaelson stubbornness. "Freya refuses to admit she's a mess without Keelin," the vampire confided, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips.
"Ah, yes, how is that relationship going?" Klaus asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Hayley made a strangled noise, irritation filling her voice. "It's not. I love your sisters but goddamn, neither of them have any idea how to handle their love lives and it is frustrating as hell!"
"Marcel is on his own when it comes to Bekah, but I suppose it's about time Freya had a break from solving our problems -"
"If she's even capable of it," Hayley huffed. "I can't even remember the last time she focused on herself."
"Well, she wouldn't have any reason not to if I found adequate solutions to our problems…" Klaus drawled, a gleam in his eyes.
"You what?" Hayley sat up straighter, fingers itching to reach through her screen and shake some answers out of the hybrid.
"Did you know Rome never formed its' own mythology?" He said instead and Hayley wondered if her daughter would forgive her for murdering Klaus. "They adopted it from the different pantheons they encountered over time.".
"Get to the point, Klaus," she all but growled.
"The point being that the shamans here have potential, if dangerous, solutions." The obvious question of just how dangerous it was, rose to Hayley's lips, but before she could ask it, Klaus continued, the brightness in his eyes fading a little, a tight smile forming on his lips. "It seems the witches here never stopped believing in the old gods - and they're about as merciful as the ones in New Orleans. Luckily, I have yet to piss any of them off," he added, trying for some levity.
"You cannot be serious," Hayley deadpanned.
Klaus sighed, "it seemed a better idea than giving back the Hollow's power to the monsters in New Orleans."
Hayley conceded, if unwillingly, that he had a point - but still, "where does the danger come in?"
"Mystic artifacts, possible possession, their gods getting greedy - the usual nonsense," Klaus said airily and, if the vampire wasn't ready to murder him before, she certainly was now. At the very least, she was wondering what the reach was on Freya's hexes.
"Somehow I never realised you were suicidal, Klaus."
"Don't think I've been called that before," he commented, a genuine grin touching his lips. It fell away at the sight of Hayley's glare. "It's not as bad as it sounds, Little Wolf" he said quietly.
"Which is why I'm probably the only one you've told so far?" His silence was enough of an answer for her and she nodded once, jaw set. "Whatever the hell this is, you're not doing it alone. Make whatever arrangements you need to and get me out there." Any protests the original would have made died on his lips at seeing the resolve on her face. Hayley had never made a habit of mincing her words, not when it came to Klaus and she certainly wasn't about to start now. And, as much as it irritated him at times, he couldn't help but respect her for it. "Make the arrangements," she repeated, softer now. "We'll figure this out together."