A.N. - So, as this is the final chapter (not counting the epilogue), I thought I'd say a little something to all of you, my loyal readers. Thank you so much to all (at the moment) 165 of you! It may not seem like a lot to some of you, but it's a lot to me! It means a lot that you guys actually enjoy my writing and ideas :) Writing's something I love, so it's nice to know that other people like the things I write as much as I like writing them. Anyway, it's been a hell of a ride for the duration of this story; thanks for making it worth my time. Hopefully it was worth yours. Love you guys!
Be on the lookout for my next Klaus/OC story (also for The Originals), which will be titled "Smoke And Mirrors".
Song: Ingrid Michaelson - When I Go
The woman in the mirror did not appear to be in mourning, aside from being dressed in black from head to toe. She looked like a distant relative who showed up to the funeral because she had nothing better to do. Her eyes weren't red and puffy from hours of crying. Her face was composed, self-assured. She had promised herself that she would be fine, so that's how she was. Fine. Just fine.
Klaus sat at the foot of the bed, watching her intently as she finished getting ready, putting in the final bobby pin for her up-do. Blade was cradled in his arms, wearing a navy and black striped onesie. Klaus was dressed in denim jeans and a black button-up. He, on the other hand, was not attending a funeral, per say. The Mikaelsons agreed to burn Ester and Mikael's corpses and be done with it. No tears. No eulogies.
The Campbells, however, decided on a traditional Viking funeral by the Mississippi River, lighting each body on fire and letting them float downstream on two small boats. Belle was glad they were doing things that way; no burial meant no grave. She loathed the thought of going to visit her dead siblings. By doing it that way, it wouldn't be an option.
She turned away from her reflection and walked toward the bed, arms extended to take Blade into them. Klaus met her halfway and slipped the infant carefully into her arms, prying away his tiny fist that was clenched onto the fabric of his shirt. For a newborn, Blade had quite the grip. Strong, like his parents.
"I just wanted to say goodbye before we go," she said, smiling at Blade, who smiled right back. For the son of two notoriously temperamental people he was unexpectedly cheerful. She hoped he hadn't inherited their tempers - especially Klaus'. "You're okay with taking him for the day right?" She glanced up at Klaus for a moment.
He nodded. "Of course. I'm sure Blade wouldn't mind a little family barbeque." He chuckled to himself, hopefully at how bad that joke was.
She rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. Daddy sure does think he's funny, huh?" She laughed and kissed Blade on the forehead. "You be good, okay? Mommy's gonna be home tonight, hopefully at least halfway sober." She intended to deal with the funeral the way all Campbell's dealt with most things: booze. And lots of it.
After planting a quick kiss on Blade's pale forehead, Belle handed him back to Klaus, and headed downstairs, trying all the while not to break down. She hadn't let herself cry since they had died, which was three days before. She'd save her tears for the funeral, but use them sparingly, like an expensive perfume that was running low. She hated crying.
Colton drove them - Audrey and Belle - out to the woods by the Mississippi, the bodies wrapped in cloth in the trunk. Cal had agreed to stay back - or rather, was too drunk to leave the bar - Rousseau's - that they had rented out for the evening. And they had all agreed to ban Claudia from attending, though she had promised to leave the city after the funerals were over. She was done trying to win them over.
It was late in the afternoon, and, since it was early December, the sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the land and water. The reflections of the skeleton trees danced on the water's surface. She studied them, and their emptiness. She wished she felt empty at that moment as the impending breakdown continued building inside her.
Colton and Audrey lifted the bodies out of the back of the SUV - Sabrina in Colton's arms and Max in Audrey's. Belle would've helped, but she couldn't find the strength, the will, to do so. It was like the life had been drained from her entire body, leaving her hallow, but aching.
The day before, Colton had brought out two rowboats and anchored them to the abandoned dock. It was small and secluded. Private. And so, they put the bodies down carefully in their respective wooden boats, like a mother putting her child to bed.
With what strength she could muster, Belle approached the two boats with trepidation, pulling her coat closer even though she wasn't cold.
She pulled back the edge of the cloth to see Max's face for the very last time; she hadn't seen his course or Sabrina's since the cemetery. His hair was as dark and curly as ever. His skin was cold to the touch as she brushed the hair out of his eyes. A part of her wished she could look into those eyes, the same shade of vibrant blue as hers, again, but she didn't want to see them without their light. They had always held a hint of mischief, even in his adulthood. He was always a child at heart.
Her knees threatening to give way below her, she stood up from her crouched position and moved to Sabrina, glancing back at Colton and Audrey for a moment. They were sitting on the dock, Audrey with her head in her hands, Colton twiddling his thumbs and biting his bottom lip.
Saying goodbye to her youngest sister was, in some ways, even harder than saying it to the brother with whom she had spent the past millennium. Sabrina was so innocent before everything, before vampirism, before vengeance. She was born with a pure heart, something that Belle had found to be rare over the course of her life. It was Belle's fault that her heart had turned to stone. It was Belle's fault that she was dead.
She pulled the sheet down enough to expose the stitching on Sabrina's neck; they had compelled a coroner to do it.
Her chocolate brown hair was dull, but still had it's natural curl, like Belle's hair. She thought back to all the times she had done Sabrina's hair for her when they were younger. Sabrina always wanted Belle to do things with her; they had been inseparable.
But when Sabrina got older, around eight years old, she became more and more independent; they all did.
This was when Belle had turned to someone else for company, for affection: Barron. He was her father's friend, just a few years younger than he was. Like her father, he was a good fighter - brave and strong and skilled. They would sneak off into the woods together and train in secret: swords, hand-on-hand combat, bows and arrows - the works. Eventually their secret training sessions evolved into more, much more, and Belle found herself falling for him. Two years later, at the age of fifteen, she got pregnant with Lilith. And that was the end of she and Barron. She lost everyone she loved that year, but gained someone who would love her for all of her short, precious life.
In a way, without Sabrina Lilith may not have ever been born. But Belle still couldn't forgive her. How could she? She was a murderer. She was the reason Lilith wasn't still with her. She had tried to kill her newborn son. People like that didn't deserve to live.
Because of everything she had done, Belle could no longer look at her as her quiet, chaste sister. She was just a monster that looked like her.
Belle got to her feet once again, trying to suppress the anger that mixed with the sadness, creating an utterly vile cocktail in her head and heart. She cleared her throat and ran a hand anxiously through her hair. "I think it's time."
Audrey and Colton stood and each got behind a boat, Audrey behind Sabrina's and Colton behind Max's. With shaking hands Belle pulled the book of matched from her pocket, trying not to drop it. Her nimble fingers trembled as she struck the first match and dropped it in Max's boat as Colton unanchored it and pushed it off into the river. She struck another, hands shaking less now, and lit Sabrina's as Audrey let it go, too.
Colton spoke first, eyes locked on the flames. "I never thought this day would come," he scoffed at himself, like he couldn't believe that was the first thing he could think of. "You know, being immortal you never think about it - about death. You just think that things will stay the same, that the people you know and love today will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and a hundred years from now, until the end of time, or whatever. But that's not true; I know that now. And, if I could, I'd take his place - I'd take either of their place." A sob broke through his trembling lips as tears fell from his eyes. He brought his hand up to wipe them away, but they kept coming. He turned his head to Audrey for a second, before looking back to the blazing boats as they slowly made their way down the river. "Audrey?" Another sob tore from his lips.
Audrey had always been strong, but when it came to crying she was softer than cotton. By that point she was already bawling, making it even harder for Belle to resist. "It, it's just. Hard. When you. Lose. Someone that you've. Known. Your whole life," she whimpered. Belle went to stand by her side, reaching up to put a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Shhh," she cooed, rubbing her back like she did for her when they were little.
Once Audrey calmed down a little she pulled away and wiped away the tears. "Belle, do you want to say anything?"
She took a deep breath and started to speak, but was distracted before she could get a single syllable out. A car door slammed nearby. Their heads jerked in its direction. Claudia stepped out of the driver's side and a surprisingly sober Cal stepped out of the passenger's. Claudia held up her hands in a sign of surrender.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyeing Claudia skeptically, trying to rein in her anger so as not to spoil the mood.
"We just wanted to attend the funeral for two of our own children," Claudia said.
"I see you've already started without us," Cal slurred. Okay, so maybe he wasn't entirely sober.
Colton looked like he wanted to punch them both straight in the face. "I thought you promised not to come, mother. And dad, how'd you manage to get your drunk ass up off the floor?"
Audrey cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest loosely. "I think Belle was about to say something." She wiped away her tears and turned to Belle expectantly, her eyes begging her to speak to break the awkward silence that followed her words.
Her mouth hung open. Her eyes were wide. Her heart pounded like a that of a hummingbird. She was completely, utterly, unbelievably, speechless. Their eyes were all locked on hers as she anxiously looked from one face to another.
"I, I can't. I have to go." Without another word, she ran.
When she got back to the city she went to Rousseau's and locked all the doors. She just wanted to have some time alone to process her grief.
She sat down on the floor behind the bar with a bottle of bourbon in one hand and chased it down with some vodka that was in the other hand - a lethal combination.
The back door creaked open just as the liquor started numbing her emotions and putting her thoughts in a less tumultuous state. She didn't care enough to get up and see who it was, but she turned her head in its direction. To her shock and dismay, Claudia stepped out from behind the corner.
"Go away," she muttered, returning her attention to the half-empty bottle of bourbon in her hand.
Claudia came to stand beside her, leaning back against the bar before sliding down to sit beside her. "May I join you?"
She shrugged. "You're already here, aren't you?" She passed the vodka bottle in her right hand to Claudia. "Come to grieve?"
Claudia chuckled. "Something like that."
Belle raised a weary eyebrow and turned to face her.
"I just wanted to check on you," Claudia clarified.
An undeniable scoff slipped through Belle's closed lips. "Sure, sure. It's been a thousand years, but now is definitely the time to 'check on' me."
"Listen," her tone was suddenly serious. "I know I haven't exactly been the best mother, or even a decent one for that matter, but I'm trying."
"Really? You're 'trying'? I can't tell."
"Well I am." She took a deep breath and a long drink of the vodka; Belle could tell this was turning into a story. "My mother taught me that all a mother is responsible for is keeping her children alive and well. She never told me about everything else. Not how to be loving or considerate. I knew nothing of compassion growing up. And being forced to marry your father when I was just sixteen didn't help." She paused again and took another sip before sitting the bottle on the floor, keeping her hand on it and rubbing the label absentmindedly with her thumb.
"Is that why you hate us? Because of him?"
She scoffed and shook her head. "I don't hate you - any of you. I may hate your father, but I could never hate you. Despite your consistent denial of it, you are just like me. Well, mostly." A smile played at the corners of her lips as she took a sideways glance of her daughter's eyes. "You're a better mother than I could ever dream of being."
A smirk spread across Belle's face before she took another drink.
"So," Claudia said, turning to face Belle, giving her her full attention. "How are you coping? This," she raised her bottle for a second, "is only a temporary solution. Trust me, I know."
She sighed and shook her head, putting the bottle on the floor between her knees. "I honestly have no idea. I haven't mourned anyone since Lilith, and I'd rather not go back to that place. It's too dark, too hard to get out of. The thing is, I've always been the shoulder to cry on. I don't know how to let go, how to let it all in. I'm afraid if I do, it'll consume me." Her teary eyes locked with her mother's.
Claudia moved closer - slowly, hesitantly, like she was approaching a wild animal. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?"
Wearily, Belle put her head of her shoulder. Claudia reached up an stroke her hair gently. Belle knew how awkward they must have looked to anyone else - not that anyone would see them, but even if there were others there she wouldn't have cared either way.
Suddenly, the dam holding back a monsoon of tears burst, sending forth an uncontrollable wave of anguish. Belle moved closer to her mother, crying into her shoulder, hands gripping her back tightly as if to say, "don't let go".
In that moment, she set aside every awful memory she had ever had of her mother - every fight, every beating, every insult - gone. All was forgiven. She had decided that grudges were poison, and it was about time to rid herself of it. It was time for a new chapter in her story - a better one.