Hello dear,
This chapter plays simultaneously with the events in The End of the Affair 3x3, bits and pieces of the original script will be shown.
I hope you enjoy it.
Lots of love,
• • • Chicago, present-day • • •
"I have to say, Marcel does know how to get people to like him." Kaleb admits begrudgingly as he lets himself flop down onto the enormous bed. He lets out a pleased sigh and rolls around on the bed to wrap himself in the soft duvet. Alright, the flight hadn't been that long, but traveling was tiresome nonetheless.
Marcel had texted Florence when their plane landed, announcing he had already booked them a hotel. She had wanted to refuse, seeing as he was already helping her so much, but who was she to look a given horse in the mouth.
"I'm glad you approve of him." Florence says with a roll of her eyes. Unbothered by Kaleb's rolling around, she empties her backpack on the other bed before stuffing the essentials back inside. It was best to travel light when looking for clues. Kaleb might have persuaded her to bring the books and documents she had taken from the city archive of New Orleans with her.
He argued that such knowledge really should fall under the free movement of intellectual property.
"I never said that." Kaleb protests at once, wiggling a little in his confinement to shoot Florence an indignant look.
"Are you quite done with your impression of a burrito?" Florence asks, foot tapping impatiently. "We have a city to explore."
Kaleb lets out a grumble before rolling off the bed, successfully face planting the carpet.
• • •
"I know. And for me to contact her, I'll need help. Bring me Rebekah." Gloria fixes Niklaus with a stern look, unimpressed with his display of impatience. The man had some nerve to walk into her bar and demand things of her after all that had happened the last time they crossed paths. Her eyes follow the other vampire as he rips something off her wall.
Niklaus lets out a heavy sigh. "Rebekah. Rebekah is a bit preoccupied." A brief pang of guilt shoots through him at the memory of his lifeless sister, she had been more than distraught upon fleeing the bar and leaving behind her lover and close friend. Daggering had truly been the best way to keep her from acting impulsively.
"She has what I need. Bring her to me." Gloria demands her eyes narrow a little. "As well as that which you owe me and my family."
"What is this?" Stefan inquires, successfully halting Niklaus from attacking the witch on the spot for her attitude. He waves the old photograph in the air, a little dazed by his own face smiling back at him, together with the Original hybrid he despised.
"Well, I told you, Stefan. Chicago's a magical place." Niklaus replies when he recognizes the picture, bitterness shining through his feigned cheerfulness.
• • •
"My feet hurt." Kaleb whines as he dramatically leans into a lamppost to put emphasis on his suffering.
"I know, you've been complaining about them for the past half an hour." Florence mumbles as she studies the map they had picked up at a tourist information desk.
"If you heard me, then you could have at least shown me some mercy, woman!" Kaleb groans.
"No, we're close." Florence argues as she lowers the map, frustrated.
"That's what you said ten minutes ago, and ten minutes before that, and-"
Florence halts eyes fixated on the outdoor sign she hadn't seen earlier. "Kaleb,"
"And ten minute-"
"Kaleb! Look!" Florence grabs Kaleb's face with both hands to gain his attention.
"Are you going to kiss me? Because I don't think the Mikaelsons will approve, not that they know of your existence of course, and I wouldn't mind, but still. I'm pretty sure they can get vindictive if they find out we shared a smooch-"
"Will you stop rambling?" Florence snaps before forcefully turning the boy's head in the direction of the sign.
"What am I looking for?" Kaleb blurts out.
"Look, the sign!"
"Ah," Kaleb nods before slowly pushing Florence's hands off his face. "Oh! That's it! I found it!"
"I found it."
"We did it together." Kaleb agrees before skipping off in the direction of the building.
Florence rolls her eyes before following the wayward warlock.
• • •
Stefan looks on as the hybrid strides closer to the various coffins that were being kept in the room. He knew Elijah was in one of them. Stefan didn't fully believe Niklaus's stories of his past self, but it did make him curious.
When Niklaus opens one of the coffins, he steps closer to see the inhabitant of the box. The skin of the woman was gray and covered in veins like Elijah's had been on the various occasions he had seen the noble Original daggered or killed, but very beautiful, nonetheless. He carefully searches her features for anything familiar before coming up short. "I don't recognize her."
"Well, don't tell her that. Rebekah's temper is worse than mine." Niklaus suppresses a grin. Despite the annoyance he often experienced when faced with his sister's many outbursts, he often found them amusing as well, to a certain extent.
Without further ado, he removes the dagger from Rebekah's chest. Not wanting Rebekah to act foolishly upon waking, he moves toward another casket and lifts the lid. It was Finn's. He looks at his brother, not able to suppress a grimace, before tucking the dagger away in Finn's coat pocket.
He closes the lid of Finn's casket and turns back to Rebekah. "Time to wake up, little sister."
Stefan ignores Niklaus's rambling to his desiccated sister and studies the photo he had taken from the bar a little closer. "Who's the girl in the back?" He asks, only now noticing the young girl in the photograph, she was hidden away in the shadows, but she was clearly looking at them.
"She's none of your business." Niklaus snaps when he sees who Stefan had been looking at. Just like many other painful events, he had tried to bury her away in his mind, well hidden away. If it were up to him, memories and paintings of her were to never see the light of day again. His gaze shifts briefly to the coffin in the far corner.
"Another Original?"
"No," Niklaus sighs, his shoulders slumping a little. His friendship with Stefan wasn't the only thing he had left behind when he fled with Rebekah those many years ago. "She was a witch." He hesitates, this descriptor of Delphine was far too meager in his opinion. He didn't want to wax poetic, but she was the happiest time of his life, the bright light to his darkness. "She was your friend."
Stefan nods, deciding not to comment on the past tense the hybrid had used. He couldn't imagine the girl to be a good person if she were to hang out with his past self and the rage-a-holic that was Niklaus Mikaelson. "Look, why don't you just tell me what the hell is going on? I mean, you obviously want me here for a reason, right?"
• • •
"Alright, have you spotted any hints?" Kaleb asks whilst toying with the yellow umbrella he got with his coke. The man behind the bar had looked at them skeptically upon approaching, which was understandable seeing as they were both minors, but apparently, the gruff-looking barman was in a good mood because he was willing to serve them soda.
"Kaleb, it's incredibly crowded." Florence says. Her eyes have been scanning the room, but there was nothing that really stood out and reminded her of the speak-easy vibes from her Chicago dreams.
"That's a no?"
"It's a no." Florence laughs, amused by Kaleb's sour mood.
"Gloria. Damn! If I knew you were going to age like this, I would have stuck around."
Florence her head shoots up at the mention of Gloria's name, and she sees a middle-aged woman and a handsome man standing a few feet away from them at the bar. They seemed to be very familiar with one another, judging by the way they were leaning in and touching hands.
Florence carefully scoots her stool a little closer to listen in on the conversation that was taking place.
"What are you doing?" Kaleb asks, his hand tugging at Florence's sleeve to gain her attention.
"Listening." Florence mumbles. "Apparently that woman is named Gloria and that man knows Klaus," She whispers, unaware that the handsome man had heard her.
"Gloria? As in, your Gloria? Delphine's Gloria?" Kaleb asks, eyebrows shooting up.
"I don't know." Florence whispers.
"She should be about… twenty-four, plus eighty years, plus another eleven-"
"A hundred and forty-two, actually."
Kaleb's mouth snaps shut as he looks at the approaching woman, who was now fixing him with a glare.
"Hello, how are you?" Florence says before putting on an apologetic smile, trying to get rid of the tension.
Gloria is still looking at the young man. She senses she was dealing with a fellow warlock.
"You two don't seem nearly old enough to be in here." The witch's eyes shift to the entrance. She wanted to get these two children out of her bar as soon as possible, seeing as there was a high probability either Niklaus or Stefan would kill them and everyone else in her establishment upon their return.
"I know, we're not." Florence stammers, a flush spreading on her cheek at the admonishing tone of the witch, it reminded her of the various times Gloria had used that tone with Delphine. She was certain this had to be the same Gloria. "But I read about this bar and the owner back in 1919, Gloria. We just wanted to see it." Florence carefully gauges the woman's reaction.
Gloria looks at the girl, sensing something familiar in her as well, but it wasn't magic like it was with the young warlock. She carefully studies her face and realizes it is something in the eyes of the girl. She wasn't sure who was looking back at her, but she had seen them before. Intrigued and a little more at ease, she smiles. "I am Gloria, welcome."