YES I am so relieved to finally get this chapter up, it was a beast to write! Thank you so much for taking the time to review last chapter, it means everything to read the reviews, they were definitely fuel to churn out this next one. Your suggestions were taken into account, pervy or otherwise. I'm sure there's some typos here but I will re-read this sometime this week when my eyes don't feel like they want to drop out of my eye sockets.
Chapter Seven: Confrontations
"Storm is coming," Hayley Marshall suddenly commented, staring up at the sky.
Rebekah Mikaelson looked up and observed the clearest, bluest skies in the history of New Orleans, with no signs of clouds spotted for miles, and gave the wolf queen a look of confusion.
Storm huh?
She inwardly shrugged. Whatever Hayley predicted about the weather, it was certainly bound to be more reliable than what Rebekah's senses were currently telling her, which was… nothing. A big entire nothing. To predict the weather these days in Rebekah's current body, one had to have salt, a raven's feather, some other stuff she forgot, and cast some mumbo jumbo with it. It was getting to be quite troublesome, these little setbacks to having a witch's body.
But, she wasn't going to complain. It was her choice after all.
Both her and Hayley were still situated outside, spying on Cami and Niall talking by the gate, and they most likely would have stayed there and snooped for a very long time if the two hadn't walked away and left their line of sight.
"Drats!" Rebekah cursed. "Well that's that. It was fun while it lasted, Hayley."
She looked at Hayley who was still carrying a now sleeping Hope. The other girl gave her a sly smile, "Guess you'll just have to get Cami to bring him around here again."
"You know what, Hayley Marshall, I believe that's not a bad idea from you for once," Rebekah commented, face brightening at the thought of the human girl bringing around Niall where both girls could better ogle him up close.
"Your brother won't be happy though," Hayley reminded.
"Oh, Nik can stuff it."
They both finally went inside, now that Cami and Niall were gone, there really was no reason to be loitering outdoors, was there? Upon entering the room, they were greeted by the sight of Nik already getting started with some late afternoon drinking. Typical. Rebekah rolled her eyes and plopped on the couch.
"Are we going to have to peel you off the floor later on, Nik? Like good ol' days," she said, unable to resist provoking her brother.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Rebekah. I've always been able to handle my alcohol. You must have confused the two of us since it was you who did most of the passing out." He topped off his glass with a little more bourbon and made a motion as if to say 'cheers' to her, and drank the whole thing.
"Observe my brother's way of sulking, Hayley. When the bottles start decreasing in number is when you know he's in quite a mood," she addressed to the other girl, and then turned back to Nik. "They left together, if you must know."
From the corner of her eye, she saw Hayley bite her lip to stifle a smile. Her brother, in the meantime, chose not to dignify her obvious trolling with a response, and instead sat on the armchair across her, studying his empty glass with an inscrutable face.
She sighed dramatically. "You know, I don't really understand it. If you like her, just tell her that you like her. You're a thousand years old, for the love of everything that is holy, I'm pretty sure you can figure out a way to sound out the words."
All she was rewarded with was a mildly annoyed look as his response. "And what do you know of this matter, Rebekah? Are things doing that well with Marcel that you have time to meddle with others' affairs?"
"Oh please, like you're incapable of meddling. You bloody originated that word. Some bloke probably took a look at you in the year 1500's and they quite possibly went 'oh yeah he looks a bit like a meddler,' 'what's a meddler?', 'I don't know but whatever that chap Niklaus Mikaelson is, he's a damn meddler.' And voila! You've invented a word. Also, don't even try your tactical diversions on me, I know you too well."
Nik merely rolled his eyes at her.
"You know what? Let me show you how simple it can be," Rebekah stated, standing up and turning to grab Hope from Hayley. She gave the child for Nik to carry on his lap, and told Hayley "You be Cami, and I be Nik."
Without giving Hayley a chance to even react, she took Hayley's hands in hers, twirled her about gracefully as if they were dancing, held on tightly to her waist, and dipped her so low on the ground that the wolf queen gasped. Rebekah then bent over towards her and said "Oh Cami, my darling… you're so beautiful and… blonde… I am a total and complete wanker, so unworthy of you, but please accept my everlasting love."
It was when she and Hayley were making smacking noises with their lips, when the very stoic Elijah chose this time to enter the room. Upon witnessing the little tableau the girls have put, he looked at Niklaus in alarm, wisely chose not to say anything, and very slowly backed out to retrace his steps, retreating into the safety and sanity of his own bedroom.
Hayley broke off Rebekah's grasp and stood upright, blushing furiously as she fixed her hair.
Rebekah continued on, unfazed, saying, "It's as simple as that, Nik. You just take a woman, and you kiss her, you kiss the bloody hell out of her. I don't even know why I have to tell you that, you already know this."
Nik sighed and said in an almost bored tone, "As entertaining as that has been for all of us here, Rebekah, it would actually be better if I knew you weren't just simply talking out of your a-"
Rebekah shrugged. "Just figured you ought to know, a good woman like that doesn't come often. And she won't hang around waiting for you to get your head on right, Nik. She's got other… enticing prospects. She is mortal, after all, short life and all that.
"And I think therein lies his problem," Hayley remarked, taking Hope back from Nik.
Rebekah met Hayley's eyes, and they both looked at him, finding his face covered in now barely concealed ire and disgust, not pleased where the conversation had turned. "No matter what atrocities I've done in the past, I do not think it warrants the punishment of having two nosy women psycho-analyzing me about a subject I could not care less about," he said, getting up and out of his chair. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'd much rather waste my time with other riveting things than listen to this rubbish."
Hayley's eyebrows raised at his response, and Rebekah gave a short laugh.
"Have we touched a nerve, Nik?" she called out to his retreating back.
Her brother's lack of answer said plenty enough.
….
It was some hours later when the storm came out of the blue and cut the power off, including that of the compound's. While other people may grumble at the lack of electricity, this didn't bother Elijah Mikaelson at all. He liked the rain. He liked being in the dark. In fact, he felt more at home moving around in the shadows, listening to the steady sound of rain and the boom of thunder, than being out in the daylight, exposed and vulnerable to everything that could see him.
He came out of his room to get a nightcap when he spotted Niklaus standing by himself in the dark, a glass of bourbon in his hand, looking out the window.
"It doesn't bode well for a woman when you wait for her in the dark," he commented, trying to gauge what mood his brother was currently in.
Niklaus said nothing, and Elijah could tell from the way his brother's posture indicated tension, from the way he breathed a little too heavily, that he was in fact, seething about certain things.
"If you are getting ready to do something brash, I would advise you against-"
"Rest assured, I am not."
"What are you doing here then?"
"Wondering what it is like to be mortal."
"Ah."
They were both silent until Niklaus spoke once more. "Have you ever wished to be one once more, Elijah? Ever thought of giving everything up? The power, the long life, to live as a human?"
If Elijah found the nature of his brother's questions strange, he did not give any indication of it. He took a while to reply as he thought of whether to gloss it over and lie, or to answer this one truthfully. He decided to go for the latter. "I have. Several times over the course of our lives, in fact."
"And now?"
"It would have been a mistake. I do not even have to tell you that, you already know. In fact, you were one of the strongest critics of why we should not lead a mortal life, even as our mother was freely offering the chance."
"Mortality would not protect my daughter. Only as the most powerful creature on earth would I be able to defend her if need be."
"And what of Camille?" Elijah questioned.
"What of her?"
"She is the reason why you bring this up, is she not?"
Niklaus exhaled sharply. "I don't know what else is left to say, Elijah. You've made your point quite clear."
"It certainly makes it difficult when someone thinks of you as the hero for once, and not the villain of the story."
A tiny smile crossed his brother's lips. "Makes you want to keep it that way."
"Tell me, what would you do if you were mortal?"
"I-", Niklaus stopped midway his sentence and turned his head slightly to the right, as if listening intently to something.
Elijah turned his head to that direction as well, wondering what he was hearing. As he listened in, he heard the distinct sound of Camille's voice outside. Another voice had joined hers, a male one. Both brothers listened in, their senses focused on the conversation going on by the gate, from her thanking him for offering her a place to live in, to him attempting to convince her that there was nothing here for her, to the sound of their silence outside, amidst the background noise of the rain.
Elijah had a clear vision in his mind, as the two had lapsed in silence, that they were locked in an embrace that lasted for a while. He glanced sideways to check his brother's face.
As he predicted, Niklaus' expression of displeasure could not be any clearer, and not for the first time, as he retired back to his room, he could not help but feel sorry for the lovely Camille.
….
Camille O'Connell was grateful to finally be back at the compound. It had been a mentally and emotionally exhausting day to see Niall again, and to make matters worse, they had to run as the weather raged on. Her clothes were soaked through and more than anything, she wanted to be immediately rid of them, have a nice warm bath, and just go to sleep under her thick covers until the end of time.
As she went inside, she noticed the lack of lights throughout the whole house and concluded that the power must have gone out from the storm. Slowly putting her hand up against the wall, she guided herself as she walked, making sure not to trip on anything unexpected along the way. The last thing she wanted was a broken neck.
She finally made her way to her own room, flicked the switch of her lights out of habit, and sighed when she realized that the power really was out. Off her shoes went. Off her sodden jeans went. She sighed in relief at the feeling of getting those jeans off, bending over to rummage through her drawers for a dry change of clothes.
"Rough night?" came the low voice behind her.
She turned around so quickly in panic, she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Klaus!"
He was seated at the corner of the room, on the very same armchair she always sat on when she read, hidden in the shadows, one hand nursing a drink.
He swirled his glass and swallowed the remainder of his drink, taking his time before speaking. "Who is he?"
There was a casual tone to his voice that disguised something else, and she didn't like it at all. Sure enough, before she could even phrase a reply, he stood up and walked slowly towards her. She tried to hold her ground when all she wanted to do was step back.
From this distance, she could tell his face was flushed, and there was an intensity to his eyes that warned her this was not a situation she wanted to be in. Was he drunk? She couldn't really tell, she couldn't tell anything at all, except at this moment, he looked dangerous, and her alarmed feeling intensified with the lights out, no pants on, with an angry looking man walking towards her.
She tried to keep her voice level as she answered. "He's a friend. Someone I knew from childhood, I…"
Without warning, he vamp-sped towards her, briefly colliding with her as he pressed her back forcefully against the wall. His arms went up on either side of her shoulders, palms laid flat against the wall, effectively trapping her.
She gasped at the suddenness of the movement, gasped at the feeling of being trapped between the wall and his body, at the feeling of his hot breath now on her face.
"A friend?" he asked silkily, curling his lip as he gazed down at her.
He pressed himself closer against her, and she bit her lip at the feeling of his warm and solid chest against the damp cotton of her camisole.
"Is that why you were gone with him for hours?" he said softly, taking one hand off the wall to slowly caress her cheek, tracking the soft skin there with a fingertip. Her breath hitched as she felt his warm touch upon her cold face. She squirmed at the sensation and she saw his eyes move down to her body and slightly narrow at something. He grasped her wrist tightly and pulled it away from her body.
"Is that why you're perfectly fine with him seeing you like this?" he asked brusquely, motioning to the transparent material of her soaked white cami, now plastered to her skin and obscenely clinging to every curve, every indentation, displaying everything.
She gasped and tried to cover herself from his gaze, but he wouldn't release her wrist. Instead, he pressed his other hand behind her back, arching her up against him, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Is that why his scent is all over you?" he said in quiet anger.
"Klaus," she said, trying to break off his grasp, "I don't know what you're talking about." Her heart was beating fast at the look on his face. He didn't answer her and continued to hold her close, to gaze down at her with his jaw clenched, those lips in a grim line.
His eyes searched hers for a long time, as if there were answers to be found there, and she found herself wondering why he continued to stare at her in silence. She was breathing hard, not knowing what to do in this position. He was pressed so close against her, it was hard not to be affected by his nearness and his scent.
"What-"
He finally moved to tuck a loose wet tendril of hair behind her ear, softly saying her name, "Camille."
He whispered her name once more, barely audible, as if he was in anguish, "Camille…"
She stared into his eyes, confused at what he wanted from her. His hand stayed on the arch of her back as the other reached out to tenderly cup her face, to brush his thumb against her cheek. She felt powerless to stop her body's instinct to close her eyes in pleasure at his touch.
When her eyes opened, he spoke to her in a pained voice. "There are certain things I cannot allow myself to do, no matter how much I may desire to do so, I cannot allow it. Because it is the right thing to do, it is the only thing to do."
She swallowed. "I'm afraid you've… you've lost me."
HIs eyes drifted downwards to her mouth as she spoke, as if fascinated with the movement of her lips. His eyes glittered with something she couldn't identify, and her breathing quickened as his thumb slowly, torturously traced her lips, pressing against the soft pink flesh of her slightly parted mouth, lingering there as he continued to stare at her lips and the way he was drawing his thumb across it.
"I deny myself, Camille, day in and day out," he said, his voice so soft she almost couldn't hear him. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for a second, she recognized the unmistakable look of desire in them.
He lowered his mouth near her ear and whispered, "Forgive me, if I find myself unable to do that tonight." He gave her lips a final tantalizing stroke with his thumb and gazed at her. "Not when you torment me so."
He leaned forward and with a suddenness that shocked her, crushed his lips against hers, hands moving to grip both of her wrists to make sure she couldn't move. Whatever breath that remained in her lungs was gone as she felt the first touch of his mouth against hers.
Oh God.
She tasted bourbon, smelled his aftershave, felt the warm wet heat that was distinctly Klaus Mikaelson against her lips. One hand released her wrist to gently tilt her head, deepening the kiss, tasting her completely. One hand settled on her shoulder as she pressed herself closer to him, his thumb running up and down her neck and collarbone in slow, languid motions that made her question her sanity. He started insistently nipping her bottom lip, licking it in such a slow lazy fashion that she moaned from the torture.
Her lips parted, letting him in. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, wantonly arching up against him. She let him taste her completely, fully, let him taste the rain on her skin without holding anything back.
This was it, this was where she belonged. It was like coming home to a warm toasty fire after a cold, brutal day spent outside. It felt like her soul had wandered for years and finally found its other half through this kiss. She closed her eyes in pleasure and found herself wishing it would never end.
She felt the tiny tremors go through his body as he kissed her, and she knew for certain she wasn't the only one affected. As she gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down to her mouth to further taste him, she felt this tiny ball of heat in her chest burst and explode into a million little sparks, filling up her cold body. She was holding nothing back, letting this man kiss her, letting him glimpse everything she ever felt, letting him eclipse every little part of her soul.
He groaned quietly, pressing her harder against the wall. She was vaguely aware of the rough material of his jeans chafing against her legs, of the heat that was pressed against her barely clothed body, the undeniable desire that was there. His hands were all over her, setting her body on fire, exploring freely below her wet camisole She gasped in shock as his warm fingers met her cold skin, gasped at this intimate touch she'd only dreamed of him doing. His fingers trailed up, up, up, lightly, almost reverently touching her, barely brushing against her breasts. The tips of his fingers teasingly grazed against her nipples, and she found herself shuddering unconsciously at the sensation.
"Klaus," she begged raggedly against his lips. "Please."
She felt his hand below her clothes gather the wet material of her cami, felt him clench his fist tightly, and in one single motion, violently rip the cloth away from her body.
She cried out in surprise as he completely yanked her top off her and threw it to the side, breaking off the kiss. She automatically raised her arms to cover herself.
He was breathing hard as he stared at her. For seconds, he did nothing, and she stood there in confusion, unsure why he was no longer touching her, why he was beginning to look at her in that manner.
"Klaus?" she asked softly.
"It reeks of him," he said, contempt in his voice, staring at the offending piece of cloth he tore away. His fingers reached up to touch his lips, as if recalling what they were doing just moments ago. She watched the range of emotions flit through his eyes, from desire, to a sudden realization, to anger, to hurt, until a hardened expression was finally back in place.
She stepped closer to him to close the distance, to reach out and bring him back, when he gripped her wrist, stopping her.
"Don't," he said softly, "A man can only take so much, and you are worth more than a drunken tryst."
She gaped at him, her brain refusing to process what exactly happened, for he was now staring at her with such hard eyes and a distant expression that she couldn't believe this was the same man passionately kissing her earlier. She couldn't express it, the depths of her bewilderment and disappointment. And now a new feeling was popping up from within her. Shame. Shame as she saw him surveying her impassively.
"Whatever it is you're thinking…" she started.
"It matters not what I think, Camille. You and I both know this is headed nowhere."
"Stop this," she whispered. "This isn't you."
"What am I, if not a monster?" he said flatly, looking away. "I will always remain one, you've known that for a while."
She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry, not to show the utter devastation she felt inside at his words.
He looked back at her, his face tense. "It is better that your 'friend' has come back to town, for he is more able to provide you with whatever it is you need."
"And what it is that you think I do need?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. The tears started to sting her eyes.
"A far better life than the one I can offer," he said, looking straight at her before walking out, leaving her in the room by herself, half-naked and cold.
….
It was a miracle that Camille O'Connell even woke up the next morning. Actually, it was even more of a miracle that she slept at all, having tossed and turned for hours, envisioning different things she could have said that would have made things turn out differently. As the lights came back on hours later, she finally realized that no matter what she did or said, it still would have ended up that way and Klaus' true feelings would have been revealed. And so with pillows stained with tears, exhaustion finally took over and she was able to sleep, dreaming restlessly.
Now it was the morning after, and as the bright daylight shone through her windows and the birds obnoxiously chirped outside, she wanted to just roll over and cover her head with a pillow. It was a beautiful day in New Orleans, but her heart was breaking, and she wished that the weather would follow suit to match her mood. At least she would have felt better about staying in her room to mope if there was thunder, lightning and a great flood rivaling that of Noah's in the background.
Did she even want to get up at all? Was there some way she could briefly slip into a coma? Maybe if she fell off her bed and hit her head hard enough, maybe fall unconscious and wake up only when he… oh right, he was immortal. How could she forget.
It was a given that Cami would have stayed in her room forever if her stomach hadn't been growling for the past hour. Against her will, she sneaked quietly into the kitchen to get herself some juice and a granola bar, and was about to head right on back to her room when she spotted Rebekah.
The female Mikaelson was currently reclining on the chaise in the living room, long legs out, engrossed in reading a book about fictional modern vampires trying to blend in a high school. Thankfully there was no sign of anybody else, so Cami headed to where she was and sat down on the armchair across her, getting started with her breakfast.
Rebekah momentarily glanced at her and Cami motioned to her book. "Twilight, huh?"
She sighed. "Trying to keep up with today's popular culture is tough."
"And how are you finding it?"
She rolled her eyes. "Complete and utter rubbish. I could have smashed my head repeatedly against the bloody keyboard and wrote something that could have turned out better than this. Can you believe what a whiny little twit the female protagonist is? Talk about helpless. This garbage just set back feminism by about a hundred years, the writer ought to be ashamed of herself. Oh yes, and that little tidbit about how they sparkle in sunlight? Lord have mercy, if their goal was to make it appear what pathetic little wusses vampires are, they've certainly succeeded."
"Uh huh," Cami said in a deadpan tone. "And which team are you on?"
"Jacob, of course," Rebekah answered quickly, giving her an expression as if to say did you even have to ask?
"The werewolf over the vampire. Marcel would be quite jealous."
"Speaking of jealous, what did he do now?"
"Who?"
"Oh Good Lord, Cami, I thought we were well past the whole denying thing. He's not here, you know. He left early in the morning, running away like a guilty little wretch. You'd think Mikael was once again chasing him to the ends of the earth." Rebekah closed her book, taking care to mark her page, and stared at her closely. "Anything you want to tell me?"
"I'd rather keep it to myself for now."
"Just wondering. You look like crap."
"Gee, Rebekah, just the magic sentence that makes me want to spill all my secrets."
Rebekah sighed. "I'm just saying, whatever he said, whatever he did, there could be certain reasons for those."
"I appreciate you coming to his defense, really I do. But I've always made it a point to understand him and where he's coming from, you know that."
"Oh. Right."
Cami found herself studying Rebekah, a person whom she felt was fast becoming her friend. The mulish expression on her face suddenly reminded her of another Mikaelson that was taking up too much space in her heart. One she was trying hard not to think of.
"Did you know I was a twin?" Cami asked, intent on changing the track of her thoughts.
"Was?"
"He died two years ago."
"I'm sorry, Cami. I can imagine the pain of losing a sibling."
"He was my… everything. He looked out for me and I looked out for him. In a lot of ways, it felt more than just losing a sibling, it was like losing a huge part of myself as well. To lose him was, well, probably the worst thing I've experienced."
Rebekah said nothing for a long time, trying not to embarrass her by looking at her as a tear ran down her cheek. The female Mikaelson spoke in a tone that sounded as if she'd been thinking of something far-away. "Is that why you find solace in Nik's company?"
She looked at Rebekah in surprise, and seemed to mull it over. "I don't know. Perhaps. I've felt so alone the past few years. He was the one who made things better, made that feeling of isolation go away. The multiple times he'd risked his life to save me, he made me feel that there was someone looking out for me once more."
"You know, Nik has never really opened up to anyone. He's always been closed off, even as a child. Always kept his cards close to his chest. I don't know why that was. It must have been all that abuse from our father, growing up he was made to feel different, separate from the rest of us. He never really talked about it, it was as if it shamed him to speak of any pain in front of me and Elijah. We knew it bothered him, of course, he just never really confided in us and…" she trailed off, as if suddenly realizing something, "...and we never really asked."
Cami was silent as she pictured what it must have been like growing up in such a hostile environment.
"Turning into a werewolf made the shame even worse, if you can imagine."
"I can," Cami said, recalling the day that Klaus showed her his memory of turning the first time.
"How come you never wrote him off, when it was so easy for us to do so? Even as you know he's done the terrible things he has, how could you still believe in him? He doesn't exactly inspire loyalty. Fear, yes, loyalty, no. How easily he can turn against you if you make just one misstep."
"Do you remember what he was like? As a kid?"
"Nik as a kid? God, that was such a long time ago. Let me see… he liked art. And carving things. He used to carve toys for me and give them to me when I would cry. Of course I always did so he'd give me a new one at times. He loved drawing. And music! We had this little flute he carved out himself, he used to play a lot of tunes with it. He never really liked fighting, would you believe? He much rather preferred spending time in the woods by himself, looking at the scenery, taking injured birds back home to care for them…"
Rebekah smiled in fond memory, and Cami couldn't help but share that grin. "That's the Klaus that could have been if he'd grown up in a healthier environment. If he hadn't turned. Hadn't spent his life running from a father who continuously rejected him and then kept trying to kill him. I really don't know how much self-actualization you can do in a thousand years when you're just trying to survive. When there's this fear hanging over your head. As hard as it may be to believe, in his own way, he's actually… a good man."
Rebekah stared at her in wonder.
"What?"
"You aren't just in love with my brother, Cami," Rebekah said. "You love him. You actually love him."
Rebekah's statement made her heart ache a little bit more, and she tried to force a smile on her face.
"I do," she confessed, now unashamed of saying it. "And even if he never returns these feelings, I think I always will."
Cami heard her give out a huge sigh. "I guess you think it's pathetic, huh?" she asked, smiling ruefully.
"Not at all," Rebekah said, taking her hand. "I think it's brave, to love wholeheartedly. There are too few women in the world who can be honest with themselves about their feelings. I'm tired of people saying a woman that loves is weak and foolish. A woman that loves is anything but weak. It takes strength and courage to love, especially a man such as my brother."
As Cami looked into Rebekah's eyes, she found herself thinking about her words. Found herself realizing that she was indeed strong and courageous. And that there were a lot of good qualities about her, qualities that have shaped her to become a good person, to become a person she liked, a person she could be proud of.
And if Klaus Mikaelson refused to see that and chose to run away and throw her feelings back at her face, then it was most definitely his loss.
….
A week had passed and the Mikaelson household still had not heard from Nik. Rebekah found herself fast getting annoyed with her brother, knowing especially that each day that passed without communication from him made Cami's spirits plummet. Hayley soon left the compound to go back to her pack at the bayou, which made her other troublesome brother, Elijah, breathe a little easier. He was still around the house, but was going back and forth to his own place across the river.
One beacon of hope that remained for Rebekah was Niall's regular visits throughout the week. The first time he came, he'd waited for Cami outside the gate, until Rebekah insisted that Cami invite him in. The girl was more at ease to do so now, especially with no unstable lunatics running around to put Niall's life in danger.
If Niall was even remotely uncomfortable in Rebekah or Elijah's presence, he didn't show any indication of it. In fact, he was completely charming with Rebekah, who did her best to flirt with him shamelessly to the highest level. But, as charming as he was, the man only had eyes for Cami.
One time he'd stayed for lunch, and Rebekah left both of them in the room to get something. Upon coming back, however, she'd heard them engaging in quite an intense discussion, and she couldn't help but put her ear next to the door to listen in before coming back.
She justified her eavesdropping by telling herself that she was only looking out for Cami, of course. And with the way things were going, her suspicions proved to be correct. Niall was asking her to move in over at his place, which apparently had enough room for her to stay in (although if you ask Rebekah, three bedrooms in a house was nothing to brag about at all). Hearing this proposition from Niall made her heart race, for it did not look good at all for Cami, or Nik.
Nik needed to come home this instant, otherwise, this man was quite easily going to worm his way into Cami's vulnerable heart. And she could picture it happening of course. Cami, heartbroken from being left by the wicked and dastardly Niklaus Mikaelson, would take one look at those bulging muscles and those steamy gray eyes, and she would be lost for sure. All it could take was just one kiss that could spark their passion for each o…
Damnit, she needed to stop reading romance novels.
Where the bloody hell was Nik anyway?
She grimaced as she pressed her ear harder against the door, wanting to hear the rest of their conversation.
"Rebekah," came Elijah's disapproving voice behind her.
"Hush! I'm trying to listen," she said, attempting to swat Elijah's presence away.
"I do hope you're aware how deplorable this behavior is. Eavesdropping on two humans, how low you've sunk."
She rolled her eyes and abandoned her mission, now facing him with arms crossed. "Just because you can listen in to a conversation without moving a muscle, Elijah, does not mean that it isn't technically eavesdropping. I am merely at a disadvantage with this body, which is why I have to resort to such shamefully manual measures. I suggest that you spare me your unwarranted condescension, because you're coming off a bit hypocritical."
Was that embarrassment that flitted across Elijah's normally blank face? Hmm. She wondered. Serves him right, trying to lecture her, when she was a hundred percent sure that he was hearing Cami and Niall's conversation as well. Not to mention the numerous times he'd listened in to a conversation "accidentally". Elijah didn't look like it, but he was even more of a busybody than Nik was. He just had more self control to keep their secrets to himself, which was more than she could say for Nik, who'd earned his much-deserved reputation as the family gossip.
She gave him one last disapproving look and went back to listening in. Unfortunately, both had switched back to other mundane topics that were less exciting than what Rebekah wanted to hear, and if she did miss a vital piece of the conversation, she had no one to blame but Elijah.
As a last resort, because she was such a caring and concerned sister, she sent Nik a text, not bothering to conceal her disgust with him and his idiotic behavior.
[This bloke that fancies Cami is trying to get her to move in with him. If you don't get your bloody head out of your arse and come home, I will let him do exactly that.]
It wasn't until in the wee hours of the morning, when she was sure Nik was probably out on a bender somewhere, that she got his reply.
[She is free to go and do what she wishes, Rebekah. Leave me be.]
….
Elijah Mikaelson could not help the huge smile on his face from spreading. For two weeks, two blissful, peace-filled glorious weeks, the absence of his brother served as a much-needed respite for him. He finally got the opportunity to listen to his music without the snide comments on what lousy taste he had, he got to re-read his favorite novels without unnecessary and unimportant interruptions, and he finally got to spend some quality time with his adorable little niece without her loathsome father protectively hovering about like a pesky fly.
Next to Niklaus, of course, Rebekah was the most low maintenance companion. Aside from the occasional shallow complaints that were easily solved, she was a fresh summer breeze compared to the heavy and demanding miasma that was Niklaus.
Elijah was currently seated at the couch, finally having the living room to himself, enjoying the first edition of The Count of Montecristo, listening to genius that was Mozart. He had just finished his first glass of that rare bottle of wine he'd been wanting to break out, when his ears alerted him to a noise outside. He frowned, the realization that those footsteps were annoyingly familiar now dawning on him.
Niklaus was home.
He closed his book with a sigh and finished his wine with a last gulp. Of course, all good things must come to an end, after all.
"And so the prodigal son returns," Elijah drawled, leaning back lazily as his brother walked in.
Niklaus raised an eyebrow at his tone. "Well, I had to come back and make sure you didn't blow up another house, Elijah."
"As much as I loved the peace and quiet while you were gone, you should have thought of your daughter before running away. Hayley had to return to the bayou to tend to some business."
"And what kind of trouble did the ever useful Jackson get himself into now?"
"I do not know, and I have no wish to know. The point I was to make, Niklaus, is that you cannot shirk on your responsibilities, and run away whenever you feel like it."
"Why, I trusted you and Rebekah to take care of her. I had to get out, you know well that I-"
Rebekah came barreling into the room, most likely alerted of their brother's return by the sound of Niklaus' predictably loud voice. "You're back," she said, evidently displeased with him.
"Missed me, have you?"
"Ugh, tosser!"
"Charming, as usual, dear sister," he said, a grin forming on his face.
"Honestly, Nik, I don't know what it is you're smiling about. Cami is gone."
The grin suddenly disappeared.
"Now I'm stuck with you two fools in this house. I told you, didn't I? She knew she was the reason why you've gone. You've made it perfectly obvious. And she would much rather you spend time here, with your daughter, where you belong, rather than you keep away from the house because of her. She did the only thing she thought she could do and left."
"And you let her?"
Rebekah's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Why is this suddenly on me? I told you what she would bloody do if you didn't come back. This is all on you."
"Where is she now?"
She shrugged. "We just had that conversation, and the next thing I know is Niall coming here and helping her move out."
"Oh he did, did he?" Niklaus' calm voice belied the mutinous expression in his eyes. "Well if there's nothing else that's new while I was gone, I should go see to my daughter."
Without another word, he spun on his heel and went inside to see Hope in her nursery.
Rebekah turned to Elijah as soon as they were alone. "Don't think I assume you're innocent in all this, Elijah," she said heatedly.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, waiting for her to continue.
"They were doing so well when I got here, and I don't know what happened, but you must have said something to Nik. And… you didn't make a move to dissuade Cami from leaving at all, it's as if you wanted her gone."
"Rebekah, as much as I would love to play the finger-pointing game with you every now and then, you know nothing of what you speak of. I only had Camille's best interests at heart."
"Best interests? Is that what you call it? Why don't you enlighten me, brother dearest. You seem to know something I don't."
Elijah sighed and massaged his temples, as if the very conversation they were having was giving him a headache.
Rebekah started to speak. "You are so-"
"I'm sure you are quite aware, that time moves differently from us. While fifty years means nothing to me or to Niklaus, fifty years is roughly the remainder of what Camille has to live as a human. What do you think it will be like in the fifty years if they are to be together? Are you completely ignorant of the multiple enemies that surround us and threaten us on a daily basis? Do you not think she will want to live a normal life? Spend her valuable years enjoying it instead of living one in fear and anxiety knowing her very mortal life would always be in jeopardy? Tell me, what fairy tale ending did you envision for them?"
"This is not your choice to make, Elijah. That is for him to decide. That is for her to decide! For you to encourage their separation when they have not even reached the point of thinking about what they want to do speaks of the actions of a bitter, loveless man."
"You are as usual, too ideal and deluded-"
"And you are blind and jaded! These two people have found each other against all odds and might have a chance at some semblance of happiness, and you do not even see it. Or perhaps you do, and you are too afraid to even consider that Nik might have a shot at happiness even before you do."
"If you are even implying that I am jealous, you are sorely mistaken. I want our brother to find happiness, I do. But not at the cost of someone sacrificing their happiness for his."
"She needs him as much as he needs her," she said with an intensity that surprised him.
Elijah shook his head. "Shall I remind you then then?"
Without saying anything more, he reached out and touched her, sharing a memory.
The suitors who died from loving Rebekah Mikaelson, being loved by her, Elijah's lovers that were killed, all their faces flashed right before her eyes. As he took away his hand, she trembled for a length of time, unable to catch her breath, unable to say anything at all.
He looked at her with a sad smile. "How easily you forget the lives that have been lost throughout the centuries, Rebekah, just because an Original chose to love."
….
Niall McAllister was about to go to bed when his doorbell at 137 Burgundy Street rang. He looked at the clock, noting the insane time of the night that it was for people to be visiting each other. He debated on whether to ignore it or not, thinking it might have just been pranksters ringing the doorbell. He'd had those the week before and he wanted nothing more than to wring their troublesome little necks and send their corpses back to their mothers.
The doorbell rang again and with a sigh, he threw back his covers and reluctantly got up.
Fuck, this better be good.
He looked at the peephole, found nobody standing there, and released a barrage of curses. He was about to enter his bedroom and go back to bed, when the doorbell rang again. For some reason, he felt the hairs of his arms stand up, and he quietly padded back to the door, his hand reaching for the gun he kept by the drawer of the table by the entryway. Slowly, stealthily, he looked into the peephole once more, hands gripping the gun in anticipation.
As he looked this time, however, he saw someone standing there.
A lone man, clothed in all black. Black leather jacket, black shirt. He looked to be late twenties, early thirties. Brown hair. Blue eyes. About six feet tall. He backed away a little and blinked, and then looked again. The man was still standing outside, an impatient expression on his face.
Niall had only seen pictures of this guy all over the Mikaelson compound. He didn't actually think he would come to his house, at this time.
Sighing, he tucked the gun behind his back, thinking it was useless to be carrying a gun against this man anyway. After all, if he did decide to kill him, there really was nothing he could do about it. He mentally cursed himself for not being better prepared for this instance, and very slowly opened the door.
Both men sized each other up for a couple of seconds, until finally the late night guest directed his gaze into Niall's eyes and said, "Invite me in. Tell Camille I am here and I wish to speak with her."
Niall found it strange, the way this man looked at him, too intensely. And the way he spoke those words with such imperiousness as if he thought Niall would just do his bidding. He was puzzled for a second until it finally occurred to him that the the fucking jerk was trying to compel him.
"After you give her my message, leave the premises," the man continued on, a sardonic smile on his face.
"I'm on vervain," Niall stated flatly, clearly unamused at the attempts to compel him.
The hybrid lost his smile upon realizing that charm and compulsion would now get him nowhere. His eyes glittered dangerously and for a moment, Niall thought he was going to come right in and attack him, but he comforted himself at the thought that they could not come in without being invited. And currently, as far as he knew, it was his name that was temporarily on the property.
"Tell Camille I wish to speak with her," he said threateningly, looming close to Niall's face, now shedding all pretence of the danger he posed.
"Yeah? Cami doesn't want to see you, mate. Maybe next time," Niall said with a shit-eating grin, closing the door with relish on the man's surprised face.
His heart was beating fast, now having encountered the notorious original hybrid for the first time. Having lied to his face that Cami was living here, when the truth was, she had declined to stay with Niall, and chose instead to live by herself somewhere else in the city.
Well, it's not like Niklaus Mikaelson needed to know that. Besides, Niall wasn't feeling nice enough to enlighten him of the current situation.
The bastard did, after all, try to compel him.
That night, as he finally drifted off to sleep, his last thought was of Niklaus Mikaelson's shocked face upon hearing Cami didn't want anything to do with him, and Niall could not help but smile.
….