Chapter 003 – Repeating History, The Mikaelson Perspective
Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah watched events unfold from the tree line. They watched Sienna throw herself between her father and brother without hesitation or fear. They watched the alarmingly large man swing an axe at his children, Sienna evading him with the grace of experience. When the child disappeared inside the house, it was revealed that he had slain their mother before arriving.
"He almost makes our father look kind," Klaus remarked, crossing his arms. The similarities were not lost on Elijah and Rebekah, either. An abusive father, enraged by the existence of his bastard son. But the uniqueness of Sienna's situation wasn't with her father – it was with her.
Elijah and Rebekah both watched with heavy hearts, trying to recall a time they had fought so hard for Niklaus. Any moment that they had been brave enough to stand against Mikael and protect their baby brother. Sure, they'd protested, even begged a few times – but never truly protected him, and certainly not with the strength and vigor young Sienna had.
Sienna's father was a disturbingly large man, both in height and stature. He shared Sienna's red, curly hair, and sported a thick, unkempt, fiery-colored beard that took up most of his face. Three jagged scars carved a story across his forehead, eye, and cheek – they looked like large claw marks and contributed greatly to his grizzled, intimidating appearance.
Rebekah had decided much earlier that she liked Sienna. At first, she'd been annoyed – she never liked playing with her food the way her younger brothers did. But when she saw Sienna take down Kol, then stand against Klaus, confident, capable, and cunning, landing repetitive, decisive blows – she felt inspired. This human girl had shown her inner and outer strength that she'd never seen before, and her example left Rebekah feeling capable, too.
And now, watching her fight her father, brutal and determined to kill, she felt a unique connection to her. She wanted to befriend her, learn from her – hell, she wanted to be her. She wished she'd been her three hundred years ago when it mattered most.
For Elijah, the scene unfolding before them took him back to his greatest shame – when he'd helped his father restrain Niklaus, painfully ignoring his brother's cries for help. He knew even then that what he was doing was barbaric and wrong, and the guilt he felt since has been immeasurable. This is what should have happened – this is what he should have done. He had no disillusion about what the outcome would have been – back then, he had not possessed the same strength Sienna has, nor the courage, conviction, or skill – but if he could go back in time, he would follow Sienna's example to the death.
From the moment he'd first seen her, he admired her. He and Rebekah smelled her blood and found her standing over Kol with an air of authority. His eyes rolled over her – from her petite frame and alluring curves to her wild hair and beautiful face. And just as he began to think to himself what an extraordinary beauty, Kol jumped to strangle her and she broke his neck for it. And if that wasn't impressive enough, he found himself floored by her mercy, too.
"I always prefer kindness to violence," she had told them after inviting them to dinner. A group of strangers, surrounding her after a violent altercation in the forest, and she invited them to dinner when Rebekah mentioned that they were hungry. He suddenly found the urge to spare her was greater than the urge to feed. If only, he thought, his siblings weren't starving. His admiration for her couldn't get in the way of his duty to his siblings.
Her fight with Klaus was astonishing. Obviously, Klaus had gone easy on her, but she landed several unexpected blows before he pinned her. And even when it was clear the battle was over, she turned her head and bit Klaus. He marveled at her tenacity – she continued to fight with everything she had, even when hope was lost.
Indeed, he already felt immense respect for her. And now, watching her stand against her father, empathizing with the trauma and pain that comes with that, he decided that she had to live.
Elijah stepped forward. "Enough of this," he said, knowing he could end this quickly, but Klaus stopped him with a firm hand to his chest.
"This is her fight, brother," Klaus said gently, his eyes never leaving Sienna. His voice carried a grave, deep understanding and hidden meaning: don't take this from her. Elijah considered his words carefully, weighing the cost. He knew Klaus was right, but everything inside him wanted to intervene. And he would, if it came to it.
"Trust me – she's got this." Klaus added, and he truly believed it.
The fight continued, brutal and barbarous, all the while Klaus anticipating her victory. He had experienced first-hand the quick-thinking and cleverness of her ability, not to mention her endurance and pain tolerance. Kol had done a number on her before they'd wrestled, and even though he knew she was in extraordinary pain, she didn't seem to pay it any mind. Her focus and will to live was unmatched and admirable.
What made their fight truly exceptional to Klaus was her lack of fear. Anyone who has ever faced him in the past was either fearful or a fool – either quivering, begging and bargaining, or attacking emotionally or impulsively. But he could tell she was neither. And despite being a fragile human up against supernatural beasts, despite knowing and even acknowledging her likely defeat, she remained strategic, decisive, and driven. She never tried to run or look for an escape – peace or war were the only options in her mind, and he liked that.
He liked many things about her, in fact. He wasn't ashamed to admit he found her quite sexy, too. He recalled the moment she tackled him, straddling him with a leg on each side, ruthlessly ripping her knife from his chest. He'd honestly never seen anything so sexy in his life.
And the way she bucked her body against him when she tried to escape his grasp. Her breasts against his chest, her hips rocking near his groin – he couldn't help but feel aroused, his dick stiffening and desire growing from the stimulation.
And then, the way she looked up at him with his own blood on her mouth… bloody hell. He reveled in the memory of it.
Seinna and her father continued to fight, the battle veering dangerously to Sienna's defeat when he'd caught her shoulder with the axe. It was pure luck that he hadn't taken her whole arm off. It was only when her little brother joined the fight, struck down in a single blow, did Sienna find her second wind. She spun around him with the elegance of a ballerina, then struck him in the back with a blade like a warrior.
The fight was over – and she'd won.
Klaus took in that moment, thinking about the day this moment would come with his own father. He wondered if he and his siblings could ever defeat Mikael. He wondered what life would've been like if he'd had someone like Sienna in his corner. Because he knew, in this scene of repeating history, he wasn't Sienna – he was Rory.
Klaus and Rebekah rushed to Seinna's father, and Elijah to Sienna. Klaus lifted the burly man with ease, surprise flashing across his angry, pained face as he looked to Klaus and Rebekah. "I'm going to enjoy this," he said. Rebekah nodded, smiling in agreement. Much rougher than they needed to, they both tore into him – Klaus at his collar, Rebekah on his arm. Much to their pleasure, he cried out as they drained him.
Elijah knelt down to Sienna's eye-level, moving slowly as to not startle her. She was choking weakly on her own blood, wheezing for air. He recalled the blows she'd taken to the ribs and concluded that she likely had internal bleeding, if not blood in her lungs. He wanted to save her – he needed to save her.
"You've done it," he told her, gently. "You defeated your father and saved your brother." He wished the same could be said for himself.
Sienna didn't look up at him, but he could hear her whimper and see the tears falling from her eyes. They left wet streaks through the dirt on her face – sad, small stripes down her cheeks. His heart felt heavy for her – as good as this would be for her, there is nothing simple about killing family, no matter the situation. He resisted the urge to push her hair back and wipe her tears.
When he asked to heal her with his blood, she finally looked up at him, suspicion clear in her amber orbs.
"Why?" she replied, bitterly. "You want to fight me, too?"
Elijah shook his head, "No," he told her sincerely. "I do not wish to fight you."
I wish to help you. He continued inwardly. I wish to protect you, learn from you, and give you the peace you deserve more than any of us.
As he gazed into her eyes, he witnessed a subtle softening of her expression, the golden depths of her irises searching his for the reassurance of trust. She was genuinely captivating, her eyes reminiscent of sunlit hues, encircled by lengthy, auburn lashes. Even amid the traces of blood, dirt, and tears marring her swollen features, and the tangled filth in her auburn mane, she was nothing short of a living masterpiece.
"Elijah, hurry up!" Rebekah called to him, "He's almost dead – you're going to miss your chance!"
He didn't look up at his sister – he knew. He also knew that he could manage his hunger. If he could resist the intoxicating sight and smell of Sienna's blood before him, he could withstand a while longer. But Sienna's body language shifted at the proclamation, and distrust etched in her beautiful features. She looked back to her unconscious brother, and Elijah could see her train of thought.
"Don't hurt my brother. Eat me, but don't touch him," she said. With nearly nothing left to give, she still found herself able and willing to sacrifice more. Self-sacrifice – that was something he could relate to.
Elijah bit down on his wrist and held it out to her, near her mouth. "Neither you nor your brother will come to any harm. I will see to that myself," he said. The words flew from his heart and out his mouth before he even realized what he was saying. "You have my word."
She reached to take his arm hesitantly. Her small, warm hands felt like electricity on his skin. He wanted to chalk it up to his hunger – the way his vampire body craved her, wanted to devour her – but he knew there was more to it than that. Her electrifying touch pulled him closer to a feeling he knew well and had vehemently avoided for a while now.
"If you're lying," she said, leaning into his wrist. He could feel her breath against his skin like sparks from a fire, igniting something within him. "I'll kick your ass."
He smiled, wondering how she found her sense of humor in the midst of such a dark day. "Of that, I have no doubt," he said.
She delicately pressed her soft lips against his wrist, her gentle suckling creating a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity. In that suspended instant, his heart quickened and a warm desire radiated through his core, making him acutely aware of his growing attraction.
He felt relief as he watched her heal – wounds closing, her color returning. As her lips left his skin, her eyes met his once more. A small amount of his own blood still on her lips, he felt heat rush to his groin and his desire flare – there was something unbelievably sexy about his blood on her lips.
He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. He hadn't expected her to have that effect on him and even felt guilty for thinking this way, especially after what she'd just endured.
"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. Elijah stood and offered her his hand. Hesitantly, she took it, standing with him. A moment lingered longer than it needed to before she pulled her hand away, her fingers sliding off his in a slow, hesitant retreat. She came to his chin in height, and thus had to look up to see him. The sun pulled away from the clouds and the light hit her eyes in a way that made them glow.
"Ugh, he's dead," Rebekah announced, tossing Sienna's father to the side. "Now what are you going to eat, Elijah?" She sounded annoyed, but the question struck a cord in Sienna, and Elijah watched her immediately come to a dark conclusion, her glowing eyes suddenly hitting him differently.
Sienna grabbed the knife at her feet and backed closer to her little brother, trying to keep her eyes on all three of them. Elijah didn't move – he understood her actions, but he meant what he said. He would only protect them, not harm them.
"Relax, little phoenix," Klaus said, licking his lips. "You're under the protection of Elijah's word." He flashed her a playful smile and added, "You've never been safer."
She looked back to Elijah, deciding whether or not to believe them. Eventually, she did, lowering the knife, seemingly deep in thought. Then, she did something no one was expecting – she used the knife to cut her own hand, stepping forward to offer it to Elijah, just as he had done for her.
"It's the least I can do," she told him.
Elijah hesitated, struggling to suppress every instinct within himself. His jaw tightened, his throat burned, and her divine scent twisted his stomach in need. Strangely, her freely offered blood now seemed even more desirable than when she was broken and battered just moments ago. He searched her golden eyes for any hint of hesitation but found only sincerity.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his inner struggle echoing the vow he had just made not to harm her.
"Yes," she replied with ease, taking two more steps toward him. She now stood directly before him, her arm still outstretched.
He accepted her hand slowly and gently, all the while maintaining unwavering eye contact, vigilant for any sign of revoked consent. His hand, considerably larger than hers, cradled hers delicately, pushing her thin fingers back lightly for a better view of her palm. As he brought her hand to his lips, he fervently fought the urge to bite her, only sucking on the opening she had willingly provided.
Instantly her blood coursed through him, rejuvenating his body and satiating the voracious hunger that had tormented them for weeks. She was delicious in a way he'd never experienced before, like a drug that flooded his senses with a dizzying blend of euphoria and longing.
Elijah felt his control slipping as he pulled her closer, his other arm tightening around her waist. Their bodies pressed together in his strong grip, igniting another kind of hunger inside of him. He could hear her quickening heart, a sound that only fueled his primal vampiric urges. Suddenly, he pulled away with a deep breath, summoning every ounce of his own self-control. He released her and took several steps back, not just for her sake, but for his own.
He thanked her and Sienna nodded. She looked flustered, and he wondered regrettably if he'd been too rough or drank too much.
Suddenly, in an unexpected flash, Sienna was thrown away from him. "There you are." It was Kol.
"Kol, no!" Elijah yelled, racing for them, but Kol's fangs were already latched deep on her neck. He grabbed Kol's collar and threw him off of her. Kol landed like a cat on his feet, eyes narrowed at his interfering brother. He charged angrily, but this time Klaus stopped him with a push that sent him crashing through several trees. The trees cracked, fell, and landed with resounding thunder.
They all looked back to Sienna, apology on the tip of their tongue, but were horrified to find her holding her open, bleeding throat, eyes wide in terror. Kol had ripped her jugular out – or maybe Elijah had done it when he threw Kol off of her before he had detached. She choked and weakly fell to her knees, her wide eyes never leaving Elijah's as death washed over her.
Elijah caught her before her head hit the ground, laying her gently in the grass. He couldn't hear her heart anymore – she was already dead. Bled out in seconds.
Fury consumed him. He had given her his word.
"The hell is wrong with you lot? Did'ja not see what she did to me back there?" Kol demanded, brushing himself off. "If anyone deserves a taste, it's me!"