House of the Rising Sun

In the morning, Elena checks to make sure Vincent got home safely. Scrolling through the phone, her fingertips are still blackened from the curse. A deep abyss that fades into grey the closer it gets to her knuckles. She can still feel them. Still bend them. When she bites into them, they still bleed red. But they are changed by last night. As is she. Losing her connection with Sophie only to recognize the one forming with Vincent. When he texts back, she asks when the color will fade.

His answer is vague. Not comforting. The truth.

The room is one of those spares decorated with furniture that doesn't quite make sense. A side effect of not having a window. In a house as grand as this one, there was plenty of higher value real estate to choose from and she's sure there's more than one room like this. Clutter rooms. Places where people put the excess until they either get rid of it or figure out where to put it.

She can relate.

About an hour after she's awake, Elijah knocks at the door. "It's safe to come out. In case that was a concern."

She feels small in the bed, swamped on either side by the comforter. But hearing that pinpoint of anxiety in his voice makes her feel a little bigger. Dragging herself out of bed, Elena greets him at the door in Rebekah's clothes while hers are still drying in the tub.

"It was." His smile greets her own. His eyes briefly flick down to her fingertips but his expression only falters for a second. He has the courtesy not to ask. "Thanks for the heads up."

Elijah takes her downstairs, apologizing for the lack of a dryer in the house. They hadn't gotten around to modernizing the appliances. It's strange to see him this way. Adjacent to domesticity. Not appearing from the shadows coming to negotiate a deal.

It's clear from his things scattered throughout the house that Klaus is not spending time in the city. A lie to put Marcel on edge no doubt. It had certainly worked with her.

"Do we really have to keep the curtains drawn, Elijah? It's entirely too depressing." Rebekah lounges on a couch, stretched out like a spoiled house cat.

"Now, Rebekah." He admonishes her as if she were a child. Elena notices that she straightens her posture a little at his tone. "We have a house guest. It's good manners to accommodate her needs."

"It's not my fault that she betrayed Marcel and lost her daylight ring."

"You know a lot about betrayal." Elena takes a seat across from them. "Where he's concerned."

Rebekah doesn't just straighten her posture, she stands up. Gives her an angry, but uncertain look. "Do we know each other?"

"No, but I know some stories."

Elijah senses the tension that suddenly floods the room, though he can't fathom the source. Just affords Elena and his sister a questioning glance before Rebekah storms out of the room. "What was that about?"

"I was at the Abattoir for a while. I stumbled on her journals." She shrugs, crossing her legs for his benefit. "Just teasing a little."

For a long while, they sit across from each other and discuss the events which transpired last night that led her into a bath with his brother. Amused, she listens to his questions thoughtfully. But she doesn't know why the witches would attack her bond with Sophie other than to speculate that they wanted one of their own free from a vampire. He questions her about Vincent and if she can trust him. She can and assures him of this. He remains suspicious which is his business. She isn't here to convince him of Vincent's character.

She's here to wait out the sun.

No matter what he asks, all his questions come back to Klaus. Why his touch hurt where his brother's didn't? It seems obvious to her. Elijah is a cold, dead creature where Klaus walks the line between life and death a little more obscurely.

She's not sure what he is.

"Whatever she is, Elijah, she isn't tied to the curse the way the others are so she's not a Crescent wolf. It's strange. Night or day? Full moon or no? It doesn't seem to matter." Klaus storms into the room with little sympathy for how he disturbs the peace contained within. It's only when he sees her that he halts his pacing. Long enough to deliver a condescending line like he was waiting to hit his mark. "Hello, love. I hadn't realized you'd still be here."

"That's typically the thing about the sun. It stays up all day." She eyes him as he returns to his notebook. Is pleased that he's scribbled so much about her without even knowing it. He's fated to be obsessed with her in one form or another.

"Charmingly astute."

Elijah clears his throat and stands to join Klaus behind the couch. "Have you made much headway with your passion project?"

"Passion?" she questions with a mocking tone that both men either miss or choose to ignore.

"It would be foolish of me not to endeavor to find out more about this Wolf Mother given our similarities. She's clearly a unique wolf as am I." Klaus turns on her, grips the top of the couch and leans over it like he might leap out at her like the beast he is. "Would you mind leaving us? I'd like to speak with my brother alone. Without distraction."

"I'm comfortable here."

"It wasn't a question," he snarls, her defiance of him burrows uncomfortably under his skin. She can see how it doesn't sit right on him.

"Niklaus." Elijah scolds with little force before he dismisses her. "Elena, feel free to explore the house. I've ensured all the rooms would be safe for you. There's a lovely library on the second floor."

It's still a command even if Elijah tries to coat it with sweetness. But she follows it anyway because it gives her a chance to explore the house without either of them watching. The front room doesn't hold much interest. The kitchen is remarkably clean, not often used. She trails her fingers along the granite countertops as she walks around the island.

Her mind wanders to times when she'd be home alone. Walking around a clean kitchen while her parents were out and her brother was upstairs sleeping. Imagine what her life would be like when she was old enough to have her own home. It was silly theatre. She'd put on costume jewelry and twist a ring around that finger. Yearning to be like her mother.

It's distant now.

The pantry is bare and it seems so lonely. This great house stands like the shadow of a home. Missing all those elements that humanity leaves behind. It's because its empty that she catches the smallest hint of another door.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rebekah is standing behind her and Elena nearly jumps at the interruption.

"Elijah suggested I explore the house while he talks to your brother." Elena returns her attention to the back of the pantry. Eyes the edge of the door and uses her nails to gently pull it open.

"Did his instructions include skulking about the place?"

"They didn't explicitly forbid it."

She manages to get the door open and a gust of cold, damp air greets her. Rebekah is closer now. Just as curious about the secret passageway. "Where are you going?"

"Down these creepy set of stairs." She shrugs and takes out her phone for the light. "Seems as interesting a place as any."

Together, they descend the stairs and it feels strange that it should be Rebekah with her. A rival she had made before they ever met. The silence is only broken by their feet on the stone steps. She thinks to break it but doesn't know what she'd say. When they're confronted by four coffins, Elena is relieved.

She doesn't have to think of anything to say.

"This is where Klaus keeps us." There's a shock to her voice at first that quicky fades. "When he finds our behavior boring or abhorrent or inconvenient, he uses one of those silver daggers on us and keeps us tucked away. Asleep until someone removes those abhorrent creations from our chests."

Rebekah looks at her like she's waiting for Elena to react. To be shocked or disgusted. Seems annoyed when she doesn't return a satisfactory response. She simply walks in between each coffin, inspecting them as she goes. "You were in one of these when he killed me."

"He only deemed it necessary to wake me very recently. Keeps those daggers to remind me that he can do it again whenever he likes."

"How many more of you are there?"

"You know Elijah and Klaus. There's Kol and Finn." She points to three coffins that Elena assumes belongs to the named brothers. Rebekah pauses thoughtfully. Her lip twitches when she says the last name. "And Henrik."

"And they're still in the coffins?"

"Kol and Finn though they are both now well and truly dead." Rebekah stands between two coffins that Elena takes to be the missing brothers. "Henrik died before we ever became what we are."

"Monsters?" she supplies readily.

"Was it this dreadfully dour attitude that attracted Marcel?"

"I think it might have been my legs." Rebekah's lip pulls back and Elena is acutely aware of how dangerous the situation is. She could rip out her heart and leave her down here. Her body would only be found the next time Klaus needed to move the coffins. She pivots to an earnest question. "Do you still love him?"

"It was a long time ago." Rebekah is taken aback. The aggression in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders fade. It's easy to see her as a young girl like this. Hopeful and curious. "Did he talk about me?"

"Just once." It's clipped and finite. Rebekah's shoulders droop and Elena pretends not to notice as she stands in between two empty coffins. She needs to find a way to get Rebekah out of the room to search for those daggers. "Everything else I read about. In your diaries. Your copy of Little Women."

"You are a snoop." Rebekah's eyes flick occasionally to the stairs, worried about being interrupted by her brothers. Elena takes the opportunity to lift the edge of the coffin in front of the other vampire. The hinges shriek, protesting against the unfamiliar motion. Rebekah panics and her eyes go wide. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see your other siblings."

"They aren't." Rebekah begins to stammer. "That's not. Don't."

It's cruel, but Elena needs to get Rebekah out of the room. She continues to lift the lid and gets a peek at a man with longer hair pushed back from his dead, grey face. His burnt clothes are in shambles. Rebekah has gone up the stairs before Elena can reveal anything else.

The mention of magical daggers that could incapacitate an Original peaked her interest. It would be a powerful weapon and she needs to replace the one Mercy had stolen. In some ways, it's more useful. The white oak stake would be permanent. The dagger could provide a useful bargaining chip.

She opens the empty coffins first. Runs her hands along the lining but finds nothing. She opens the third coffin and takes another look at the man. His wide eyes locked in death are horrifying. As she runs her hands along the coffin lining, she keeps her eyes on his. It feels strange not to. Like she'd be ignoring him.

There's nothing in this coffin nor the last. She can't look that man in the eye. They'd been shut so tight. A pained expression contorted his youthful features. She shuts the lid and pushes aside the nagging grief she feels for Klaus carting around the corpses of his lost siblings.

It's an incredibly lonely act that she doesn't want to focus on.

She falls against the stone wall, sliding to the ground and hanging her head between her knees. It was stupid to believe that Klaus would keep those daggers with the coffins. It's too easy.

On the precipice of giving up and finding that library like Elijah suggested, she remembers how Tyler used to keep a bottle of his parent's vodka taped to the underside of his bed. Everyone had told him how stupid he was but it had worked. He'd steal one from the liquor cabinet and his parents would fight about it. Both blame each other after they couldn't find it in his room. They never thought to reach up once their hand was under the bedframe.

She tests out the theory on Elijah's coffin. There's nothing there. But she's successful with Rebekah's coffin. She finds two more under Kol and Finn's. Sets them on top of the coffins and eyes them. Considers taking all three, but only tucks two away at the bottom of her bag.

The remaining one she leaves on the top of Rebekah's coffin.

As it gets later in the afternoon, she ventures upstairs. Trying to find the library but happening upon Klaus is so focused on his desk that he doesn't notice her at the door. She's fascinated with his hunched shoulders and fluid movement. The way he sketches is unlike everything else he does. The violence she normally associates with him is nowhere to be seen. Replaced now with poetry in motion.

Minutes pass quickly and she forgets who she's watching until he speaks. "Do you mean to prowl about the doorway all afternoon?"

She ignores the disdain in his voice and walks closer to the desk. "What are you sketching?"

"The Wolf Mother. You truly have never seen her?" His surprise makes her uncomfortable. The fact that he's paying attention to her at all. Ridiculously, she had wanted to see his sketches of her without him taking notice of her presence. "She is unlike any other wolf I've ever encountered. I'd never heard of one that could change at will nor one that stood on two legs. A perfect mixture of man and beast."

Klaus sits back in his chair and spreads out the loose paper for her. Several images of her walking through the bayou. Her paws on the cypress trees. Her snout rising in the air against a waning moon. Outlines of her footprints in the mud. They're all so accurate that it immediately makes her wonder when he's seen her. These are too good for them to be based off a recounting from Diego.

It unnerves her. "You've seen her?"

"Only from a distance." He admits and she vows to be careful with the wolf skin. To never let him see her real face. To look for him lurking in the shadows.

When they lock their eyes, it feels like he could pull the truth simply from this. She's never looked closely at her own face while wearing the skin. It could be her eyes staring out from the wolfish face. It could be clicking in his head from this alone.

And graciously, Rebekah starts screaming.

Yelling for Klaus from the room directly below them. She's furious that he left bodies to bleed out on her favorite rug. Demands he sleep outside if he insists on acting like a beast.

He grins like a cat, small and impish. Pleased to have caused annoyance and disruption. When he stands, she realizes how much closer she was to him than she'd initially thought. She has to stretch her neck to look up at him. His lips open slightly but whatever he'd thought to say he keeps to himself. Leaves the room without a parting word.

She waits until she can hear his feet hitting the last step before she looks through the sketches. Chuckles in the room alone as she examines each sketch carefully. He's obsessed with her. With the Wolf Mother. The irony that they can't escape. Tentatively, she picks up his pencil and marks the places where she thinks he's gotten her wrong.

Her claws aren't big enough. She hunches more when she's walking through the trees so she can scratch at the trunks and leave a scent trail for the other wolves. She's never howled at the moon. Had never considered doing it.

In the middle of the stack, she finds a sketch that depicts her softer than the others. Her eyes are relaxed. Her sight is cast off the page. Longing for that unseen whatever. Whoever more likely. It's the one she likes the most and without thinking about it, she steals it. Folds it in half and sticks it in her bag along with the daggers.

It's her image and it belongs to her.

Triumphant with her prizes, she seeks out Elijah in the library. For safety and comfort. Like he had suggested initially. When she settles into a chair next to him, he doesn't question where she has been. Suspects that he wants to pretend he found her here waiting for him. She wedges her bag between her thigh and the arm of the couch. Folds her legs under her and opens a book on her lap. Alternates between reading and glancing at him.

Too many moments, their eyes meet and neither know what to say. She doesn't want to forgive him for not being enough. For loving his family more than he cared about their deal. For caring more about Davina than he does about her.

But sitting here in silence with him, she can sense the reason that he also stays quiet. It almost feels normal for them to be sharing this space. And until the sun sets, they are both clinging to that feeling of normalcy.

It shatters the moment she notices the night sky.

If she stays curled up on the couch opposite him, then maybe she could piece together that feeling again. Not notice the cracks and accept his unspoken offer to stay another night. She could find a place where she fits in this house. Under Elijah's protection. He likes her and feels enough guilt to keep her safe from everything. As long as she doesn't pose a threat to his siblings.

It's not a promise she could ever keep.

So, she stands.

Elijah waits out in the car while she changes back into her dried clothes. Folds Rebekah's into a pile that she leaves on the bed. Klaus is, suspiciously, nowhere to be seen. She walks through the house and stops at the open doorway into a sitting room where Rebekah is relaxing. Listening to music and drinking.

"You should go back downstairs." Elena adjusts her bag, slinging the strap across her chest.

Rebekah eyes her suspiciously as she sets her drink down. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"You might find something you like." She starts for the door but is stopped by her own guilty heart. Too much of her relates to Rebekah. Being alone. Finding out that everyone you love has moved on and you are stuck in the past. Her own heart is in the process of breaking as she reels from Sophie. And she can tell that Rebekah is feeling the same about Marcel. "For what it's worth, Marcel and I didn't talk about a lot of things he cared about. I guess there were just some things, some people, that he preferred to keep to himself."

She steps outside into the night before Rebekah can say anything else. Gets into the black sedan with Elijah at the wheel. In the dark, she can still feel his eyes on her. "The Abattoir or Vincent's?"

"You can drop me off at Rousseau's."

Classical music plays from the speakers the moment he starts up the car. She relaxes in the leather seats for the drive back into the city, clutching tightly the bag with all her new treasures. Occasionally stealing glances at him to see if he felt the illusion break between them.

But she doesn't see it.

All she sees is his hand on the steering wheel and the way his knuckles flex when he takes a turn. How his jaw clenches whenever he catches her looking at him. Softens when glances over to her. How his hand is light on the shifter and how close he is to her when he changes gears.

She doesn't see it because Elijah knows the truth. Nothing between them had ever been typical. She would never be a woman walking through her kitchen at night for a snack and he'd never be a man who waited in bed for her.

That simple future wasn't for them. Whatever could be between them would be built in blood and violence. Vows and promises that could lay a foundation, the strength of which dependent entirely on how well they kept them.

The next time she's marauding through the bayou, she keeps an eye out for Klaus. Expecting to see him on her first night back in the swamps, but it isn't until the fifth night that she catches sight of him. Leaning against a tree in the distance. Disappearing behind it when he sees her noticing him.

It feels like taking him for a walk as she ventures deeper into the wild. Steering clear of Eve's house and any of the other encampments. Taking pleasure from him examining the surface level cuts she leaves behind in some of the trees. Measuring the length with his fingers. Studying her.

There's a desire to captivate him. To make him feel inadequate in comparison to her form. To show him that she's more of a wolf than he will ever be, but it deflates when she gets a good look at his face. She's struck by how young he looks with such unguarded curiosity. It is like glimpsing into the past at the boy that was. He's not scared of her and he's not envious of her. He's enraptured by her.

She thinks to turn on him. Twist her body and pivot until they are facing one another. Give him true inspiration for his sketches.

But when Jackson appears loping through the undergrowth to run to her side, Klaus disappears and she doesn't see him again.

He's still on her mind when she returns to the Abattoir later.

It's a mistake, she knows, to come here. All the people, including Klaus, that she could run into here. People she certainly doesn't want to see. Should have crashed at Vincent's again, but she's concerned about wearing out her welcome in his one bedroom. That is her excuse as she creeps into the compound so late at night.

Overhearing Rebekah attempting to convince Marcel to leave New Orleans is only a good justification after the fact. Elena keeps quiet at the door and takes slow steps until she's hidden in the shadows of a column. She can smell the sex on them and has to concentrate to block it out. Focuses on their words like Palace Royal and apple. He's already caught Rebekah and she doesn't even know.

"Used to get my ass beat on that plantation if I got caught eating one. Even the spoiled ones. Now they just remind me of a time when I couldn't have what I wanted."

Elena freezes at the mention of the word. She was just there a few days ago. Hadn't thought much of it but knowing that they made a home of Marcel's worst memories makes her joints tense. She's too focused on the acrobatics her stomach is doing and misses Rebekah's pleas for him to leave, but whatever she's said has upset him.

"Those vampires are my friends. Some of them are like family to me and this city is my home."

"Well it was my home too once!"

"No, Rebekah. It is the only home I've ever known." He emphasizes it for her. The difference between them. "You ran and I stayed. I rebuilt what your family burned down. It's my empire and it runs because of the blood I've shed for it. And you want me to run? A man doesn't run."

"I've lived many lives and I've seen kingdoms rise and fall in the years before you were ever even born. And if there's one thing I've learned is that nothing is worth your life if you have no one to share it with. You want New Orleans? Have her."

Rebekah spits out the last few words before too much anguish can spill out of her throat. Storms away from him, grabbing her clothes and rushing down the stairs while Marcel watches her leave. Elena rolls to the other side of the column as Rebekah passes her not a few feet away.

Vampires' emotions get the better of them. So much so that they obscure their other instincts leaving them as vulnerable as humans.

"Elena." She halts at the mention of her name. Hopes wildly that he's not calling out to her but musing instead. No luck. "You can come out now."

"How did you know I was here?"

She steps out into the light and looks up to Marcel. He seems more amused than bothered that he caught her spying on him. Leans over the railing and his smile tilts just slightly crooked.

"You think that you hid under the persona of Katherine Pierce and I wouldn't see who you really were." He chuckles and that sound more than anything makes her uncomfortable. "I knew you as Kat, but I still saw you Elena. How you liked to listen. Hang back and observe. Stick to the shadows."

"You couldn't have known I'd be here."

"No, you're right." He shrugs nonchalantly and heads toward the stairs. "You keep staying somewhere else."

"You got rid of your informant. Killed his inside girl." She tracks him the way a big cat stays still in the in the tall grass. Her head swivels to follow him. "So how?"

"I was hoping she'd change her mind. That she'd come back." He admits it somewhat reluctantly. He's more sentimental than she'd thought. "I was listening for her."

"Women tend to hate coming in second place."

He shakes his head, wipes at the corner of his mouth. "Funny you should mention someone on the inside. I think Klaus managed to flip one of my new guys. Josh." He scoffs when she shrugs. "You never really cared much about vampire business."

"It never felt like mine to care about."

"Mercy has Elijah preoccupied tonight. Diego is keeping an eye on Rosseau's. Klaus is having a drink with Cami."

She eyes him carefully. This is beginning to sound dangerously like a plan and it excites her. She knows it shouldn't. Not with him. "Does that bother you?"

"Not tonight. Tonight, I'm grateful."

"What's different about tonight?"

"How would you like to take a drive with me outside of the city?" It's not really a question.

They don't speak much in the car. It's been a long time since they've been in as confined a space as this and she's focusing on how she feels around him. Controlling her breathing so she seems at ease. Tries to not make him aware of how her body is trying to crawl out of her skin with all the things she wants to say.

Questions she isn't ready to hear the answers to.

Marcel is so focused on the road that she think she doesn't have to hide much. It takes her awhile, but she begins to recognize the roads he's turning on. The same ones Elijah used to bring her back to the city a few nights ago. She keeps glancing at him, waiting for him to say something. Some snide comment about her being here before.

But it never comes.

Not even when he turns down the driveway of the white plantation home. He shuts off the ignition and gets out without a single word. Stands in the yard in front of the house and waits for her patiently. It's strange, pretending to see something for the first time. But she's had enough practice pretending. Fixes her face to look confused as she joins him on the lawn.

"I hate this fucking place." She glances at him briefly. The anger bubbles just under the surface. Tension in his jaw is the one sign she knows for sure how livid he truly is. "Tried not to think about it, but I'd still have nightmares that I was back here. I suspected he wasn't at the hotel, but I would have never thought he was out here until Rebekah brought out that apple."

"This is where you were born?"

"Not here. About a mile west." He looks in that direction with the slightest nod. "Out of sight of the man who raped my mother."

His lip peels back to reveal extended fangs. His eyes bleed black, but when he breathes out slowly and controlled his features return to normal.

She wonders if any of the Mikaelsons know about this pain. If it was too raw to explain and then later, the sting of their incomprehension. By the time they had found Marcel, had they already lost too much of their humanity? Had they only been able to see to his physical wellbeing without understanding his emotional needs?

It's too much to ask and she already stands on fragile ground with him. She does what they came here to do. Opens the trunk of his car and helps him to unload the gas cannisters he brought with them.

They walk through the house together, Marcel heads upstairs while she stays on the floor level. Pouring accelerant on Rebekah's favorite rug that she'd spent all day cleaning after Klaus left a dead woman to pool blood on it. She splashes it on the piano and curtains. Grabs another container and heads toward the kitchen. Eyes the pantry and wonders if Rebekah grabbed those daggers. If she should check in case she didn't.

Hopes that the flames won't reach down those cold stairs to consume their dead siblings. Arson doesn't seem so terrible, but burning those two dead vampires does when she remembers the lonely feeling she got imagining Klaus carting their bodies all the way down here.

Marcel drops the match on the stairs and takes several steps back until he's aligned with Elena once again. The fire roars in the doorway immediately. They'd been so liberal with the gasoline that it doesn't take too long before the entire first floor is engulfed in flames. Red licking along the vines and ivy until green becomes black. Scorching the white columns and glass shatters as the fire makes its way to the second floor.

"It feels good to watch it burn. I should have done this a long time ago."

"Why didn't you?" He moves next to her, turning to look at her. The back of his hand grazes against hers and they both flinch like they'd been shocked.

"Maybe I wanted to forget it. Maybe I didn't want it to be part of me. I just wanted to ignore it and pretend that I was only ever this." A king. It's what he means to say, she thinks as he watches the fire reflect in his eyes. "But this feels right. Like cleaning out an old wound."

They don't speak, letting instead the cacophony of sounds fill the air. The crackling fire and the crickets chirping in the distance. This gentle symphony is the sound of Marcel's reclamation. Words aren't needed, especially not from her.

For an achingly long time, his eyes never waver from the fire. And suddenly, he's had enough. Turns around and walks to the car without announcing his intentions to return to the city. She thinks he means to leave her here and waits to make sure. But when he looks back to her she knows that isn't the case.

Once again joins him in the car for a silent ride back to the Abattoir. How casually she had committed to burning down a building as if it were running an errand. But it's probably a step down from murder. She equivocates trying to find a line in the side she accidentally buried too long ago to remember.

With the smoke billowing in the rearview mirror, she adjust her bag on her lap and her fingers twitch. Itching to touch the surviving sketch of the Wolf Mother safely tucked away between the pelt. To hold it and know it's real. She's even more grateful that she'd stolen one. For securing her image before helping to destroy it.

Marcel lingers in front of the Abattoir. The shock of what he did settling behind his eyes. Triumph mixed with a strange melancholy. Saying goodbye to the image he tried to build for himself and welcoming the person he's been running from.

"You should come home, Elena."

"The compound is not my home."

"It could be." She almost forgot how charming he could be. Even when he's exhausted. "If you wanted it to be."

"Marcel. I just walked in on you having a post sex send off with your ex from a century ago. And then we burned down the house she was staying in." It sounds so ridiculous, but then so would other things too if she ever said them aloud.

"I'm not asking you to sleep with me or stay in my room." He pinches the bridge of his nose and squints. "I'm just saying if you wanted it to be, the Abattoir could be your home again."

"So I can be leverage against Klaus?" It's as angry as she's allowed herself to be around him, but still she's quiet about it. A soft breath of rage. She doesn't trust him. Doesn't trust what he might do. Doesn't feel safe enough to let her fury find a home.

It makes her cold. She can feel it like a glacier between them. Icing him out. Keeping her distance and back rigidly set against him. It's one thing for him to let her in on his past, but she can't bear to let him in on her present yet.

He opens his eyes and it's there in the depths of them. All the answers she's too scared to hear. To know if he meant it or not. To know how he felt about her and wonder if it matters anymore. It's there in the silence and the way he looks at her like he's expecting her to disappear. And then finally, he speaks. "I shouldn't have said that."

It's not enough. It's more than she can hear right now. Notably, it's not an apology. But she prefers it that way. She doesn't know how she'd react if he did. Cry or rage. She might be tempted to apologize for her own actions that day and she doesn't want to say anything untrue. She's not ready for her ice to melt.

"No, you shouldn't have." She holds her elbows tight to her body. The sun is on the horizon. She can tell by the way her bones ache. An old instinct among those nocturnal that drive them to cover from the daylight.

He nods slowly and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "The offer stands."

Marcel disappears inside the compound and she waits outside long enough to make sure he's had enough time to get to his room on the third floor. It's too late now to change her mind and go to Vincent's. Wouldn't now even if she could. Marcel makes her curious. About what loneliness looks like in a vampire. What could happen to her if she's not careful?

It scares her. She knows she wouldn't have left with Rebekah either.

Gently, she closes the shutters and pushes the heavy armoire in front of the door. Slides into her old bed and wraps her arms around her heavy messenger bag. Goes to sleep and dreams about the women she let walk out of her life too. Lucy is a distant memory, but she can still hear Sophie's soft steps in the corridor. Could run after her but won't.

In that way, she's like Marcel too.

Bones crack and blood splatters to the floor as the fighters brawl to prove their worth. Elena stands to Marcel's right while Diego and Mercy are on his left. They watch as Felicia climbs Otto's back. The big man is strong but he's no match for her dexterity. Mounting his neck and grappling with his arms. Using her thighs to snap his neck. Riding him until he falls to the ground and gracefully slowing her fall. Leaning into the motion to bow before Marcel.

The crowd erupts in applause. It's not enough to display her skill, but to do it in a flourish. It reminds Elena of gladiators fighting for their freedom. In a sense they are. It's what a daylight ring means to everyone here. With Davina in his pocket, Marcel has an unlimited amount to offer as long as the lapis lazuli remains in constant supply.

"Marcellus!" Klaus storms in and snaps Felicia's neck, letting her body hit the ground to send waves through the crowd. "It's clear we need to have a conversation. Things have escalated. Homes have been burned down."

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Interrupting a den of mongrels as they learn to test out their dew claws it seems." Elijah walks through calmly and waves of vampires back away from him. The violence sits under the surface with him but they can all still feel it. "You nearly burned what remains of our siblings. Years of collections vanished in the ashes. I should think some retribution is necessary."

"And my daggers. Where are the daggers?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Klaus." Marcel grips the railing and runs his tongue over his teeth. His mouth is stretched into a grimace. "We did go to the plantation and burned it down last night. Should have done it years ago in fact. Imagine my surprise though when we showed up and discovered that not only was it still in use, but it was occupied by the people who once called me family. Living in the same house where I was once a slave."

"Who is this we you speak of?" Elijah interjects, a single nucleus with the other vampires vibrating around him.

"Isn't that clear?" Marcel holds his hands out and looks to Elena. Her back stiffens.

"You and the doppelganger having fun playing with matches," Klaus sneers, his shoulders hunch as he pushes the crowd back. Snarling to get the breathing room they allow his brother. "Is that the reason for our sister's departure from New Orleans?"

"Where Rebekah stays or leaves is not any of my business. But I'm surprised you don't know. You've always kept a close watch on her."

"Are you done with her as well as the bartender? Or have they both rejected you? Left you to settle on a replica?"

When they first arrived, Elena could have sworn that Klaus had glanced at her. But even now as he's speaking about her, he steadfastly refuses to look at her. Marcel's hand slides on the railing, his arm is protective across her body. "Elena is a good woman. Any man would be pleased to have her at his side."

"And is she? At your side?" Even with Marcel's gesture, Klaus still doesn't look at her. "If any man is so content with her at his side, then why do her fingers remain so bare? Is your alliance not yet sealed that you would still deny her a ring?" Finally, his hardened gaze settles on her and they drip like poison. "Let me know, sweetheart, when you become dissatisfied with waiting."

"They say patience is a virtue." She catches the briefest smile from Marcel out of the corner of her eye. Elijah is as still as a statue. A careful countenance to his face. But her full attention is for Klaus.

"Not one that Petrova women have in abundance."

"How would you know? You haven't been around one long enough to find out." Her voice rings out again. Soft. Her venom is coated in honey and false innocence. "Besides, I'm a Gilbert."

The brothers leave and in their wake she thinks of her alligator. Imagines her in the swamp with her clutch of eggs that might have hatched by now. A dozen of her children swimming through the water's edge with her. The way she must stalk her prey, submerged under the water until the right moment. Waiting, silent and unseen, to conserve her energy before launching her impressive heft through the water at her prey.

Klaus is dangerous and reckless but if she's to make him her prey than she'll need patience. To wait and catch him off guard. To leverage her precarious position until the right moment.

He assumes what a Petrova woman is like, but he's never met one like her.

She'll make damn sure of it.

The excitement leaves with the pair and soon after the crowd dissipates completely. Marcel reaches for her hand and she stares at it apprehensively before taking it. After what they'd done together, accepting it now seems the wiser choice. He leads her downstairs and explains as they walk the situation with one of his newer vampires, a kid named Josh. His suspicions had been growing and had overflowed with Klaus's confrontation over the torched plantation home.

That Josh was a newer recruit along with another guy. The vampire Thierry killed the night they roused the Cauldron. He tells her that there was a window of opportunity before he could get to those two. A sliver of time where they were not on vervain.

"All of the vampires are on vervain?" she asks hastily as she matches his pace.

"Yeah." He looks back at her. "Shit. We made the decision when they arrived. While you were in the Garden."

The way he says it is easy. Like it doesn't cling to her heart and drag down to her stomach. He keeps walking and she manages to go along with him even through her legs feel like stone.

She still feels strange on her feet as they corner Josh together. Marcel explains how he knew. When Josh had confirmed to him that Klaus was staying at the Palace Royale, their visit to the plantation proved that wrong. That Josh was either lying to him for no reason or had been compelled by Klaus.

"For your sake, I hope it's the latter."

Marcel snaps his neck and throws him over his shoulder. Walks out of the compound with his body in a sack while she trails behind. The shock of Marcel referencing the Garden subsides and she realizes that the dread she feels underneath is for a wholly different reason.

The vervain.

Klaus must have known that every vampire under Marcel was on vervain if he intentionally got to Josh before he could ingest it. And if he knew that then he must have thought she was on it. Had compelled her just to get a rise out of her or tease her but she pretended it had worked. The best option was that he thought she wasn't on it. But more likely and worse was that he suspected she was and was curious to assess the limits of what she'd do to fool him.

Questioning her about the Wolf Mother to see what she'd tell him. Forcing her to hold onto his arm as they made their way back to their seats. Gloating in front of his brother. Suggesting to her that they feed together and she had complied just to keep a secret that she didn't need to bother with.

The roads spin precariously as they walk to the church. Two sides of an argument that feel like losing no matter what. She'd felt so confident that she'd finally been two steps ahead of Klaus and he was playing her with ease. He was checking her boundaries and in an effort to trick him she'd shown him that she had none.

She had thought she was the cat in their game this entire time but once she'd turned around she had realized that a wolf had been stalking her all the while.

It's still on their mind when Marcel drops Josh's body in Davina's secluded bedroom. He crawls out, looking as dazed and confused as she feels on the inside. "I thought you could help me, D. See I'm certain that Klaus has poor Josh here compelled to spy on me. I've been thinking about it for some time but Klaus showing up tonight angry about the house was proof that he'd been living out there. Proof that Josh lied to me. Now, I could either kill him." Josh panics and Davina looks shocked. Elena might be too except she's still too far under the surface to notice much. "Or I we could break the compulsion. Flip him so he can spy on Klaus for us."

"I can undo what Klaus told him. But the more he was compelled, the more it will hurt."

"Elena too."

That drags her back to the surface gasping for air. "What?"

"I haven't been giving you vervain. That's on me." Marcel shakes his head with an apology in his eyes. His hand is on her arm, his thumb stroking her reassuringly. "Too much going on and I forgot. Left you to the wolves. But for all we know, Klaus has you compelled too."

"He doesn't, Marcel."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't." She relents easily. Too much of a pause and she fears she'd have to explain. "I just – it doesn't feel like he has."

"Feeling isn't the same as knowing. Davina will make sure."

With a quick squeeze on her arm, he's gone. Down the hallway and stairs. She feels like she's been ambushed. Had relaxed when she thought this was about Josh but hadn't realized that he'd be including her too. Davina smiles reluctantly and extends her hand toward Elena.

She braces herself for the pain she's come to associate with magic, but there is none. Davina closes her eyes and concentrates deeper but there's still nothing. She finds what Elena knew she would. That she hadn't been compelled.

Josh is a different story.

His screams are immediate and gut-wrenching. The anguish of someone learning of a new way to hurt. But Davina is on a mission and she continues poking around. Breaking the bits of compulsion she can.

While they are busy, Elena wanders out into the hallway. Mostly to get away from the screams, but it's Marcel's voice that has her edging closer to the stairs. He's talking to someone and then she hears a grunt and the sound of him crashing into a wall.

From the lilted voice and accent, she knows it's Rebekah. "You used me. Slept with me to find out where Klaus was really staying. How could you?"

"You don't think we were using each other?"

Elena scrunches her nose at the deflection. And her heart aches a little when Rebekah's voice goes softer. She preferred it harsh and angry. Spitting like a cobra. In a way, she could channel her own frustrations at Marcel through his old lover. "Did you tell him that it was me?"

"I wouldn't do that do you, Rebekah. In all the time you've known me, do you think I would ever do that to you? Betray you like that? I would never do anything that would hurt you."

"Did he ask about the daggers?"

"You have them?"

"Yes, just one. I think the doppelganger took the other two. Elijah must have the fourth and well, the fifth has been lost for some time."

She rolls her eyes even though she hadn't counted on Rebekah to keep the secret, she hoped at least her generosity had earned her a little secrecy. She huddles at the top of the stairs too afraid of a loose board to risk walking even halfway downstairs.

"Elena? Really."

"What about her?"

"Nothing I shouldn't be so surprised about." Marcel pauses and she wishes he would elaborate. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

They are gone quickly. Rebekah doesn't hesitate when it comes to Marcel. Elena is envious of a heart that can so willingly break itself for a chance to be seen. She's certain that hers is overgrown with thorns by now. Her first thought isn't of betrayal. She hasn't felt he was a choice for her since entombing her.

She's only thinking about what an alliance might look like between the old lovers. How it might strengthen Marcel's position and hold over New Orleans with an Original at his side. What he might do with the information that she has two daggers in her possession. She'll need to give them over to Vincent so he can protect himself before they are taken from her. Mercy's theft and possession of the white oak stake is still a sore point for her and she won't endure a repeat offense.

Back in the attic, she kneels at Josh's side as Davina continues with the spell at his own insistence. It commands her respect that he'd be willing to endure this pain. That he can see the value in owning his own mind even through this torture. Elena drapes her body over his. Rocking him gently and trying to comfort him even though he can't realize she is there. He's far too out of it to care, but Davina notices.

The last compulsion breaks and Josh falls into Elena's lap, shaking and shivering. The process was strenuous and he looks terrible, but there's a glimmer of triumph in his eyes that tells her it was worth it all. Davina approaches them cautiously. On top of all that power she can't hope to control, she doesn't have the fortitude to yield it as others might. She's too gentle for what that kind of power demands. Too apologetic for what she had to do to Josh.

"Marcel wants me to make you forget about me."

Josh struggles to look at Davina and Elena helps him to sit up on his own. Watches as Davina kneels in front of the kid. The Harvest witch doesn't seem to be talking about her. "What about me?"

"He didn't mention you. You already know everything about me, Elena. But Josh…"

"You don't have to do that, Davina. I owe you my life. I'll keep your secret." His breathing is still labored and sweat drips off the tip of his nose. He doesn't understand the situation he's in otherwise he wouldn't have asked. He still thinks his life should be ordinary. "And anyway, it's nice to talk to someone normal."

"You think I'm normal? I'm a freak. I live in an attic and my coven wants to kill me for power. I'm a witch that is only alive because of a vampire."

"I'm a gay club kid who died and became a vampire."

Davina's smile broadens genuinely and Josh laughs as he wipes his face. They both look toward Elena as if they expect her to join in. As if she's one of them. She can't remember how long it's been since the last time she was giggling on the floor with Caroline and Bonnie at a sleepover. Commiserating over their lives and problems. The last time she felt like a kid.

She laughs awkwardly. "I'm the copy of a woman that Klaus and Elijah apparently knew a millennium ago and was used in the sacrifice that made him a hybrid but then came back as a vampire. Except, I faked my own death to run away from home because my brother was shot and killed by our town sheriff and – what?"

They're starting at her. Eyes wide and white. Josh scrambles to answer first. "Nothing."

"No, it's just…living in an attic seems less freaky now."

Davina looks to Josh and then back to Elena. They burst out laughing and Davina falls into Josh's lap. Elena watches on as they dissolve into each other's arms. Wanting to join them but feeling long past a time when she could be carefree in the arms of a friend. She's seen too much and it's aged her prematurely. They laugh like the city isn't too dangerous for either of them to survive for much longer. For now they are happy and carefree.

Too young to dread their fragility.

Elena doesn't want to see either of them die even though she knows Davina must. It feels too cruel to take her now. As she's laughing on the floor, bonding with a new friend. With her only friend. She smiles so she doesn't kill the joy and wonders how long she can put off the inevitable before the Harvest must be complete.