BrookeWorm 3: maybe a relatively short bridge but definitely
NotRob: Thank you for reviewing :) I don't want to give too much away but i will say you will get to see more of Olive's side hopefully in chapter 9 (which will be coming very soon)
RenTenTen: I imagine most vampires talk about Beyoncé cause what else would they have to talk about? Thank you so much for saying that about the nuggets. I'm trying to put little clues when you guys probably have to read this back from the beginning because you forgot where the story was because I haven't updated in a while. And to answer your question you are definitely not cold.
NaRuKo-InuTaiSHo-XD: thank you for your review and please enjoy
Chapter 7: Their Parties were Tasteful if a Little Loud
"Kol!" Elijah gasped out, his eyes widening in sheer astonishment, his eyes widening like a man who had witnessed a resurrection, as Kol's arrival upended the scene. the tight grip he held on Klaus's neck loosening.
"Brother! Welcome back to the land of the living." Kol declared with an infectious, exuberant grin that painted his face. His presence was like a gust of refreshing wind, sweeping through the eyes danced with mirth as he assessed the room, taking in the chaos around him. With a gleeful sparkle in his eye, he addressed his hybrid brother, still sprawled on the floor, as if he had just stepped onto the grand stage of a splendid performance. "Oh, it seems I came in at the right time."
Klaus, struggling to disentangle himself from Elijah's clutches, swiftly clambered to his feet. He fixed his gaze on the newly returned sibling with an undercurrent of irritation, scolded stating, "Kol! You were supposed to tell Elijah you were back," he reprimanded.
"Rightttt, I knew that there was something I forgot to do," Kol nonchalantly exclaimed, snapping his finger as he recalled their conversation. Stepping up to a still-stunned Elijah, Kol clapped him on the shoulder with a theatrical flourish and jubilantly announced, "Elijah, I'm alive. Have been for 15 years."
Klaus, his impatience clearly visible, rolled his eyes. "Well done."
Having heard the fight end Olive enters the room, once again ignoring her brothers and focusing her attention on the mess they have managed to make in the time she was gone. She would be impressed if she wasn't so irritated. They had just finished the house!
Undeterred, Kol turned to leave but stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of a surprised Olive standing in the corner. "Right, I'm going up- Olive!" Kol abruptly reversed course, flinging his bags toward Stefan, who staggered under their weight. "Hello, my darling!" With an exuberant sweep, Kol gathered Olive in his arms, spinning her around dramatically.
Olive couldn't contain her laughter, greeting the Original with a bemused smile. "Hi, Kol," she greeted him, her voice a note of light heartedness in the midst of the tense reunion.
As Kol gently lowered her back to the ground, she fought to regain her footing, all the while Kol turned to Elijah, his senses attuned to the brewing fire emanating from his elder brother.
"How could you not tell me you were alive?" Elijah questioned, finally able to process the last 30 seconds.
"I got busy," Kol replied with a nonchalant shrug, rolling his eyes in mock indifference.
Elijah's face contorted with a blend of disbelief and exasperation as he tried to process the whirlwind of events. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his attempt to regain composure in the face of Kol's carefree attitude evident.
"Elijah, did you undagger our siblings?" Klaus questioned, his voice heavy with a dangerous undercurrent.
Elijah, the fire of defiance burning in his eyes, offered a sharp retort. "What did you expect, brother? I have learned not to trust your vulgar promises," he sneered. "Don't even bother trying to dagger them again, you'll never make it in time," he goaded, nodding upward, indicating the upper floor.
"You had no right!" Klaus thundered.
"I had every right. I should have taken those daggers from you the first time you used them against us," he rebutted firmly.
"Nik." Olive turned to Klaus, her voice an imploring note, but her appeal was promptly cut short by Klaus's stern intervention.
"You need to leave," Klaus urgently impressed upon Olive.
"What?"
"My siblings will be furious, and I won't let you be caught in the crossfire," Klaus explained, his head shaking gravely.
"He's not wrong. Rebekah would love to kill you," Kol added in, plopping himself down on the table where the now-cold meal was forgotten.
Locked in a silent exchange, the couple shared a weighted gaze. Eventually, Olive nodded. "Ok, I'll go. But you two are coming with me." he turned her gaze to the two brothers with a resolute stare. "You're taking me to that coffin."
"No way," Stefan declared, shaking his head and taking an involuntary step back, still clutching the heavy bag tightly, as if to physically distance himself from the impending choice.
But Olive remained unyielding, her gaze unwavering as she fixed her eyes on the two brothers. "Either you take me there or Alaric dies. I have someone watching over him right now and I am more than willing to let him die after what you've done," Olive sneered, her voice steeped in a menacing tone.
With a reluctant sigh, Damon conceded, "Fine."
Exiting the room first, followed by Stefan who cast the heavy bag to the floor, Damon remained disheartened by the evening's disappointing turn. He hoped that he was finally going to see the light leave Klaus's eyes but instead, Damon's plan went to shit. As they left the room, Olive couldn't help but cast one last, wistful glance at Klaus. A poignant smile lingered as she headed out to join the sour brothers.
As the three vampires got into the car and drove away from the mansion, the floors upstairs began to creak, a ghostly symphony announcing the return of the awakened Originals. Klaus's body tensed, and his gaze instinctively flicked upward, his senses alert to the impending presence of his siblings.
"They're here," Kol's voice rang out, his tone lighthearted in contrast to the gravity of the situation. He met his brother's piercing glare with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What? Have you ever seen Poltergeist?"
….
Klaus always knew that when he woke his siblings that they would react...violently towards him. He knew that they didn't truly understand why he daggered them. They thought it was because he was afraid of being alone. That they would abandon him like Mikael would so often tell him. There would be nights where all he could hear was Mikael's chilling voice, the haunting echo of 'No one wants you, boy,' tormenting his mind as he slept. His demonic voice haunted him for 52 long years. And on some level his siblings weren't entirely mistaken. He doesn't want them to leave him, but not because he is afraid to be alone.
It's because no matter what, how or why, the inevitable day that his siblings die, would be his fault. He was the one that took Hendrick to see the wolves that night. He was the one that carried his broken body home. No matter what, he would ultimately be the reason for their deaths. He had to live with being the cause of their family's demise as humans. Why wouldn't he try and prevent his family from dying again. From carrying that guilt and grief. So, he locks them away in boxes, in beautifully decorated rooms that no one ever enters.
It's for them.
It's for all of them.
Of course, he would never tell them this. He has never told anyone this save for Olive because he knew she understood. The shared guilt of bearing a burden that shouldn't be theirs, yet they couldn't help but shoulder. More than that, Klaus trusted Olive because she comprehended his profound unease – that perpetual feeling of not belonging anywhere. With your family, with lovers, with the world. There was just something quite not right and it made them both feel overly exposed and invisible at the same time. He had never met another soul that felt the same way he did. He had never met anyone that made that feeling disappear.
So instead of begging, scheming, or defending himself, Klaus waited. He waited and watched his older brother storm into the room like a soldier stepping into the battlefield and let his brother thrust a dinner knife into his chest, staggering slightly at the force. It's why he didn't bother to pull out the knife as he saw his sister from the corner of his eye, clutching a dagger with fervour. Barely having time to brace himself, Klaus groaned as the dagger plunged into his stomach, his blood freely flowing, staining his clothes and the floor. He doesn't pay as much attention as he should as Rebekah condemned him for killing their 'saint' of a mother, too focused on not lashing out.
After a few deep breaths, he withdrew the various weapons impaling his body, letting them clatter to the floor with a resounding thud. The conversation continued around him, but he remained strangely silent, not offering his usual snarky comments or excuses.
"Are you even listening to me?" Rebekah's voice pierced the air, disrupting Klaus's detachment.
"How can anyone ignore your shrill voice, sister?" Kol gleefully exclaimed from his perch, swinging his legs back and forth.
Rebekah spun to the opposite side of the room, her eyes narrowing in disbelief as she examined her resurrected brother. He was clad in completely different attire from the time he was daggered. The night he had been he certainly was not wearing a chequered purple long coat with flare jeans. It was the 1900s! How on earth did this happen? "Kol?" she stammered.
"Hello, sister. Enjoy your nap?" Kol greeted her with a light hearted, teasing tone
Rebekah turned back to Klaus, her accusation firmly in place. "Did you wake Kol before you woke me?"
"I needed the company," Klaus replied, heading to the table to retrieve his forgotten glass of wine.
"Who was in your coffin, Kol?" Elijah inquired, still curious about the presence of another body in his brother's coffin as he sat at the dining table.
"Oh, that's Joffrey. Lovely fellow. Had some very rich and powerful friends that were quite curious as to where he ran off to, so I put him in my coffin." Kol explained with an air of indifference, casually inspecting his nails.
Elijah paused, furrowing his brows in puzzlement. "Why?" he asked, genuinely confused by the unusual choice.
"It made sense at the time. You try telling a rich angry mob their friend died from eating a spoonful of chilli powder as a dare. It's not the most pleasant conversation," Kol responded with a smirk, his attitude unapologetic.
"I find out that you have been lying to me for over a millennium, and you wake up Kol, the pervert, before you wake me? What else have you been hiding?"
"His lover," chimed his elder brother, prodding his nose into Klaus's love life.
"Lover? What happened to 'love being a vampire's greatest weakness'?" she questioned with a furrowed brow.
"I changed my mind," the hybrid coolly replied, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Are you planning on attacking me again or can we speak like a civilised family?"
"Family? You destroyed ours. You killed our mother," Rebekah seethed.
"Yes, I did." Klaus acknowledged, "I killed her because I was in a fit of rage when I learned she would be denying me my heritage. My birthright."
"To be the mighty hybrid," Finn dryly mocked from the room's corner, taking advantage of Klaus's distraction to fathom the developments of the human world.
"To renounce Mikael," Klaus clarified. "She refused to let me be free of him. My werewolf side is irrefutable proof that I was not his. And I wanted that."
"Then punish him instead. Not her, mother was innocent." Rebekah implored.
"If she was so innocent then I wouldn't be here," the hybrid points out.
"No. No you do not get to talk your way out of this," Rebekah protested, pointing an accusing finger at her brother. "You have destroyed every good thing in our lives. Trying to control every aspect of our lives. So afraid that we would leave you in the cold."
Tears welled up in the young girl's eyes as she recalled the pain she has endured at the hands of her brother for the last thousand years. "I loved every man that you took from me, and I carry them with me every day."
"That's funny seeing as it took you less than 3 years to find a new man after telling me repeatedly that Marcel was the only one for you," Klaus interjected.
"How dare you!" Rebekah fumed.
"How dare I? How dare you!" Klaus slammed his glass onto the table, ignoring the wine that spilled out of the glass and onto his hand. He marched towards his sister, his voice strained with anger. "What amazes me sister is how naïve, and self-involved you can be. You think I kept Marcel from you because I didn't think he was worthy of you. Because I didn't want you to be happy. That's the only possible reason, isn't it? It never occurred to you how I might feel, to know that my sister and my son were in love with each other," he raged, his hands trembling.
"That's not at all what it was like," Rebekah said, shocked at her brother bringing this up. Of the accusation and what he was insinuating.
"Of course, it was. I raised him with you by my side and you imprinted yourself on to him. It's sick."
"I loved him. What we had was pure and-" Rebekah began, but her words were cut off.
"I would like to add that your relationship with the boy was more than a little questionable," Kol interjected, raising his hand mockingly. "But that's just my opinion. Which is correct."
"Oh, shut up Kol! Of course, you would say that. You never even liked Marcel. So jealous of the new boy," Rebekah snapped.
"Enough!" The voice that had once scolded, consoled, and carried the weight of authority sent chills down everyone's spine. It was a voice that had returned from the dead, and demanded their attention.
In stunned silence, they all watched as the Original witch walked into the room, her presence carrying centuries of wisdom and a deep maternal aura. She paused as her eyes scanned over all her children, her gaze revealing a complex mixture of emotions. It was the first time in over 900 years that her entire family was awake and together. For the first time in over a thousand years they could see her.
"Mother?" Rebekah whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, too shocked to say anything more.
Rather than responding, Esther chose to come further into the room, closing the physical and emotional distance between herself and her children. She only stopped when she stood in front of Klaus, who openly stared back at her. Unmoving and unwilling to break in front of her.
"Do you know why I'm here?" Esther asked.
"I have a few guesses," Klaus responds, his tone reflecting both his readiness for confrontation and his determination to hold his ground.
"You are my son, and I am here to forgive you. I want us all to be a family again," Esther proclaims, gazing upon all her children lovingly.
….
The car ride to the Lockwood caves was fraught with tension, casting a heavy silence over the three Salvatores. Each vampire grappled with their own emotions and thoughts, and the atmosphere inside the vehicle was thick with unease.
One highly irritable vampire who doesn't know how to talk to someone he once called sister. Family. The innocent bright-eyed girl that used to watch him and Damon play had chosen to side with the enemy. Had chosen to denounce the Salvatore name. The name their father and mother passed on to them. Who was she to decide-to reject everything they were raised with? To ignore them for over a century, burying her past like a shameful secret. Stefan wouldn't be the one to bear this shame, it wasn't his to shoulder. Aurora never knew pain nor hardship when she was human and yet she had the audacity to - It wasn't right. She wasn't right. Whoever that girl was in the back seat is not their sister.
The second, a lost and confused brother trying to right the wrongs of his past, longing to reconnect with the sister he had unintentionally abandoned. It saddened him to think about the relationship they had as humans compared to now. The laughter that was once shared between them had turned into glares and harsh blows. It was even harder to imagine when he only knew half the story. He knew why his brother hated him; why he spent just as many years hating him in return. They still had trouble fully trusting each other even now but they both had the knowledge of why. The memory of how they turned on each other. But with Aurora…. He woke up one day and had her return from the grave with a heart full of hate directed towards him. And he couldn't understand why. A part of him wondered if it was because of the last time they spoke. The argument they had. During those few months where Damon watched his sister from afar, he wanted to give her a new last moment between the two of them. A better memory to comfort her during those cold nights when grief would greet her. But he knew if he got too close, he wouldn't let her go. He couldn't do that to her. He knew that she knew that he loved her. Cherished her. That thought had comforted him for almost 200 years, only to find she had spent the same amount of time cursing his name. He just wished he knew what to do now. He wished he could get his family back.
The last passenger, a bundle of nerves, couldn't bring herself to look ahead. To confront the men who had so callously abandoned her. A part of her knew she was being irrational. That pushing them away so forcefully would lead to disaster, but she couldn't help it. When they stared at her, she felt like a thousand spiders were crawling on her skin. She always prided herself in her ability to rationalise and compartmentalise. Her self-control was her biggest strength. But when she saw them, really saw them, all she wanted to do was scream and cry and yell and hide and fight and die. She had finally fixed herself, glued herself back together after being so carelessly dropped and here they were, judging her for surviving. For embracing the chaos and learning to let go and finally be happy. Olive knew that coming back was a risk. She knew the chances of them finding out who she was. But she was just so full of her own hubris that she thought she could deal with it. That it wouldn't affect her. And to most it would look like she was dealing, unbothered by their judgement and questions. But she knew better.
In the midst of this heavy silence, Damon broke the tension by addressing the issue indirectly. "So, that's your boyfriend," he commented, glancing at the rear-view mirror.
"Yep," Olive responded curtly, avoiding eye contact with Damon as she stared out of the window watching the passing scenery, refusing to meet Damon's inquisitive eyes.
"He seems to care about you," Damon observed.
"That tends to happen in healthy relationships. Something you two know nothing about," she supplied, making involuntary eye contact with her brother. Damon refocused his attention on the road, as Stefan sulked in the passenger seat, still sour from how the evening turned out. He was looking forward to seeing Klaus's decapitated form writhing on the floor.
The tense silence continued to drag on, making Olive's skin crawl. In an attempt to ease her nerves, she asked, "How far away is this place?"
"Not much longer," Damon replied.
Olive remained mostly silent, choosing to retreat further into the car's leather seats while gazing at the sunset.
Damon, however, couldn't shake his curiosity and concern. "What did we do to make you hate us so much?" he blurted out suddenly. Olive's wide-eyed shock greeted him, and Stefan, who had been doing his best to ignore his siblings, shifted uneasily in his seat as he waited with bated breath for her answer. She pulled her eyes away from Damon's with great difficulty and went back to staring out the window, her fingers absentmindedly playing with her necklace.
"We're here," Damon announced
Olive leaps out of the car, her high heels sinking ever so slightly into the grassy field. Up ahead she can see what looks like an abandoned mining cave of some sort, one that had seen better days. Damon and Stefan march towards the cave without looking back, leading their sister into the dark abyss.
"What is this place?" Olive inquired, glancing around the cave curiously.
"The Lockwoods or descents of the Lockwoods had tunnels running underground and made sure certain people couldn't come in thousands of years later," the eldest Salvatore explained.
"So, you hid the coffin in the one place no vampire could ever enter," Olive summarised, admiring the strategic choice. "Not bad."
"That's the first complaint I've gotten from you in 200 years," Damon remarks, glancing back at his sister.
"Desperate for approval are we?" she said dryly
As they near the cave where the coffin was stored, they spotted a lone figure lying on the ground. Stefan rushed towards her as Damon headed to the cave's entrance, checking if anyone was inside.
"Bonnie? She's still breathing," Stefan informs them.
"Mama's still breathing. I can hear her," Damon added.
Olive tried to peer inside the cave, but Damon's large frame blocked her view, leaving her unable to see more than a few sketches on the cave walls, illuminated by the still candles. "They opened the coffin."
"Whatever was in there is long gone," the Ripper points out.
A sense of fear and concern washed over Olive, causing her to involuntarily mutter "Nik." Before either brother could respond, she disappeared in a blur, leaving behind one worried and one angry brother.
….
Olive rushed back to the house as quickly as she could, her heart pounding with fear. Her frantic footsteps echoed in the silence as she made her way to the dining room. However, her anxious steps came to an abrupt halt when she saw the blood splatters and broken glass glistening on the floor. Panic surged within her, and she quickly exited the room, making her way to the stairs.
As she ascended the stairs, Klaus emerged from one of the bedrooms, having heard her panicked steps echoing throughout the mansion. Her breath hitched, and all her fears momentarily dissipated as she saw his form. Without a second thought, she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around him like a vice, and his in return.
Her voice quivered as she mumbled into the warmth of his neck, "You scared me, you dick. "You scared me, you dick."
"Sorry," Nik murmured, his arms tightening in a reassuring embrace, his hands gently running through her hair as if to soothe her frazzled nerves.
Olive pulled away slightly from their intimate embrace, her concern etched in the lines of her face as she scrutinised him, searching for any lingering signs of harm, although she knew that any injuries would have long since healed. Her fingers delicately traced a faint smudge of blood on his cheek as she tentatively inquired. "Are you sure you're, ok? Do you-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Klaus gently interrupted her, his hand cradling hers on his face, and his reassuring smile melting away her anxiety. "I am, love," he said softly, his warm voice a soothing balm. "You can put your racing thoughts to rest for a while."
Their moment was interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Esther, who had ventured out of her newly acquired bedroom, her curiosity piqued by the commotion in the hall. "Niklaus, who is this?"
The two immortals separated, turning their attention to the Original witch, who observed them with a keen, inquisitive gaze. Despite the tension, Klaus managed to produce a somewhat forced smile, his arm wrapped protectively around Olive's waist as he introduced her, "Mother, this is Olive. My beloved."
Olive greeted Esther with a polite but subtly tense smile, her hazel eyes locking with the inquisitive gaze of the ancient witch. "Hi," she smiled tightly.
Esther offered Olive a courteous nod before commenting, her tone carrying a subtle warmth, "It's lovely to meet the woman that has managed to tame my son,"
Olive chuckled lightly, her voice tinged with affection. "I wouldn't call it taming. Maybe distracting."
Esther's gaze intensified as the name 'Olive' resonated with a hint of recognition. "Olive," she repeated, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand secrets. "The Saviour. I've heard whispers about you on the other side."
Olive was taken aback by this revelation, her surprise clearly etched on her features. "You did?"
"Witches talk." Esther remarked cryptically. "Some were singing your praises. You've made quite a name for yourself," Esther muses, wary of the girl before her. She knew despite her rather welcoming demeanour that a dangerous woman laid beneath its thin veneer.
"Not on purpose."
"Niklaus, did you tell Olive the news," Esther inquired, her eyes turning toward her son with a knowing look.
"No, I have not had a chance," Klaus replied, his voice laced with tension and restraint.
"What news?" Olive inquired.
"We are hosting a ball tomorrow. Celebrating our family's long journey home."
Olive's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Tomorrow? Isn't that a bit soon?"
Esther's reply was laden with a touch of irony. "I would say it's 1000 years late,"
"Of course," With a courteous nod, Olive responded with a tight smile, acknowledging the witch's declaration while maintaining a certain wariness, given Esther's history of cursing her son.
"I'll let you two talk. Goodnight Niklaus, Olive," Esther gracefully excused herself, heading back to her bedroom, leaving the couple alone in the hallway.
"Goodnight."
"Sleep well, mother."
Klaus led Olive back to their bedroom, his arm securely wrapped around her waist as she held onto his hand with a sense of both relief and unresolved curiosity. As they walked, Olive took hold of the hand on her waist, her eyes drawn back to Esther's closed bedroom door, her expression furrowing with thoughts and concerns about the upcoming ball and what it might mean for their future.
….
Rebekah seethed with resentment, her anger burning beneath the surface like Vesuvius. She despised being told what to do, and she despised being told not to kill the doppelgänger even more. The little bitch deserved it after what she did to her. She was helping them; she gave them the advantage they needed and for that they literally stabbed her in the back. The doppelgänger was lucky that Elijah stopped her before she could get creative. And now, said brother had been lecturing her in the kitchen for the past ten minutes, delivering one of his characteristic speeches on her 'reckless and irresponsible actions that would reflect poorly on the family.' Rather than respond to one of Elijah's recycled speeches, Rebekah could only muster the patience to pick at her nails until he finished his rant.
As Elijah's reprimand came to an end, he fell into a pensive silence, staring deeply at one of Klaus' framed paintings adorning the kitchen wall. Sensing a brief reprieve, Rebekah decided to treat herself to some ice cream from the freezer, hoping it might cool her fiery temper.
"Tell me sister," Elijah's voice broke the silence as he sat by the kitchen island. "When you were with Klaus in Chicago did he ever mention this Olive to you?"
"No," Rebekah responded, her tone dismissive as she faced the freezer, contemplating the assortment of ice cream options before her. "Does it matter? She's clearly just his latest obsession."
"Those usually last no more than a year."
A sceptical expression crossed her face as she selected a carton of vanilla and caramel ice cream from the shelf and shut the freezer door. "Well, how long has she been with him? 3?"
"30 years," he said, turning in his chair to face her.
Rebekah, now settled with her ice cream and a spoon from the drawer, expressed her doubts with a hint of arrogance, "You're joking. That's impossible. As much as I love him there is no way he has managed to hang on to that girl for thirty years. Klaus doesn't do love remember?" she asserted confidently, taking off the ice cream carton's lid and tossing it onto the counter.
"Apparently he has changed his stance on that since you last woke," Elijah said, further unsettling her.
Her denial was adamant. "I don't believe it. If it was serious then he would have told me he always tells me these things," she said confidently, digging into her ice cream, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary.
Elijah raised an eyebrow, revealing his doubts. "It seems he trusted Kol with this more than any of us."
"I don't like her." Rebekah said bitterly, shoving the spoon in her mouth.
"I have my suspicions about her as well. The infamous Olive with our brother, who just happens to be related to the Salvatores." He eyed his sister closely, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. As much as he loved his brother there was something clearly wrong with this picture. Not only was Klaus in a 'loving' relationship for nearly three decades, the only one who was informed of this new development was Kol. Kol who had last seen Nik as he put a dagger in his chest for trying to incapacitate him. Not only that but Olive was the woman that had enamoured his brother. The so-called vampire saviour who was related to the very people trying to kill his brother. The woman who somehow managed to stick around after what can only be hundreds of bouts of anger, possessiveness, and paranoia. He had yet to meet a woman so patient. He doubted a woman with her reputation could last that long next to Niklaus. "You'll inform me if you notice anything off won't you, sister?"
"Happy to," Rebekah responded around her spoon, her frustration driving her from the kitchen as she headed to the living room where a manicurist was soon to set up.
….
The garden held a special place in Olive's heart, a tranquil oasis she had designed to her liking in their new mansion. Klaus had granted her complete creative control over its layout. Exiting the sitting room through the backdoor would lead you directly to the garden pathway, which was lined with burnt red cobblestones that guided you towards the garden's centrepiece, a grand and serene pond. The pond itself was a marvel, boasting a variety of aquatic plants that stretched gracefully across the water's surface. Walking over the wooden bridge above the pond, you could gaze down to see small fish gliding gracefully beneath the surface, their bright, iridescent tails glinting in the sun's gentle caress.
The bridge faced a massive red oak tree, a living relic from the 1800s. Olive had issued strict instructions to the workers to ensure the tree remained untouched, allowing it to stand on its own private island at the pond's centre. She had even placed stones artfully within the water, forming a pathway that led to the tree, so one could venture there. Beyond the pond lay a large greenhouse, home to a vibrant plant nursery, along with a diverse collection of exotic flora Olive had collected during her extensive travels. Adjacent to the greenhouse stood the stables, which sheltered the few animals cared for on the property.
It was within this serene and meticulously designed garden that Olive had chosen to spend some time with Finn, hoping to gently introduce him to the many changes the world had undergone without overwhelming him. They sat on one of the stone benches which rested against the flower bushes that went all around the property. She had spent most of her morning teaching a grumpy Finn how electricity and how construction had developed over the years before moving on to a few technological basics. Finn had been less than enthusiastic about the impromptu lesson and had spent most of it in silence, staring off into the distance, leaving Olive with the feeling that she was talking to herself.
"This is an iPod," she said, holding up a sleek blue iPod Nano in her left hand. "You can get music you like on to this and listen to it wherever you are. You can do the same with your phone," she continued, displaying the new iPhone she had acquired for him in her right hand.
Finn stared blankly at the iPod before gingerly accepting it from her, inspecting the gadget.
Olive, perhaps trying to build a connection, said, "Nik told me how much you used to like listening to the villagers play growing up." but she still received no response from the Original. She huffed, looking around the garden. She noticed one of the hired staff members setting up fairy lights in preparation for the upcoming ball. Esther had said that she wanted this evening's festivities to be unforgettable. "Are you excited about the ball tonight? Spending time with your family?"
Abruptly, Finn fired a direct question, leaving Olive taken aback. "Is it true that you abandoned yours?" he asked, the words hanging in the air.
"What?" Olive's surprise was evident in her voice, her head swinging back to face him.
"That's what Elijah said," he replied, his head turning to face her, "You left them."
"In a way," Olive answered uncomfortably.
"You're not very loyal, are you?" he accused, continuing to scrutinise her. "Niklaus has always admired loyalty. I can't imagine he gets much from you."
Olive took a deep breath, carefully considering her response. "I would define myself as an extremely loyal person." she began "I have stood by people that didn't really care for me because I thought it was right. I stood by my family long after they had passed. They were the ones that decided that my loyalty was no longer wanted. I stand by Nik. And I know he stands by me." Finn scoffed, rolling his eyes, and then turned his attention to the oak tree. Still facing him Olive adds, "If you want to know why we have never strayed from each other, it's because we had something unique in common."
"Being unworthy of your family?" Finn shot back incredulously.
"Being betrayed by our brothers." Olive retorted. Finn snapped his head towards her, evidently surprised by her audacity. Olive held her ground and stared back into his accusing eyes unflinchingly, before he eventually averted his eyes back to the iPod he held.
Reaching under the bench where she had thoughtfully placed some books for Finn to read, Olive offered, "I'll leave this with you." She gently set down the hefty textbook on the bench. "It should give a better understanding of the world."
Without looking back at Finn, Olive departed the garden and headed back inside. She slid her hands into her pockets, retrieving her phone from her jeans, leaving the eldest and loneliest Original seated on the bench unmoving, his gaze fixed on the serene surroundings.
Once he heard her go up the stairs, Finn placed the iPod aside and picked up the weighty textbook titled, A Modern History. Leafing through it he saw incredible things, large metal frames that housed people. Images of the moon up close and people falling from the sky. Beginning with the book's commencement, Finn avidly read, eager to find an explanation as to why the earth felt so much warmer than he remembered.
….
Cautiously, the young witch made her way to the front door, her steps deliberate and cautious after the doorbell rang.. She had received word from Damon that they couldn't locate whatever had escaped from the coffin. They had spent most of the night checking out abandoned houses and the vast forest looking for some hint as to where it had gone. All of them hoped that whatever escaped made its way to Klaus and took care of him. Once and for all. That being said, she was planning on remaining vigilant until she was presented with proof.
She peered through the peephole, her gaze scrutinising the seemingly empty porch. Hesitantly, Bonnie opened the door and looked around her porch, never stepping past the threshold. Just as she was about to retreat back inside, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, her eyes caught sight of a large white envelope, elegantly inscribed with her name.
Bonnie hesitated for a moment, glancing looking around for any unusual characters lingering nearby, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. With a deft flick of her wrist, she levitated the envelope into her grasp, then promptly secured the door, locking both bolts
With eager hands she opened the letter and pulled out the elaborate invitation
Please join the Mikaelson family, this evening at seven o'clock. For dancing, cocktails, and celebration
A furrow creased her brow as she wondered who the Mikaelsons were and why she had been extended an invitation. When she turned the letter over, a handwritten note caught her attention.
Dear Bonnie,
I do hope you grace us with your presence tonight. I believe we have a lot to talk about.
Kind regards,
Olive
Oh.
….
Despite growing up on a modest farm all the Mikaelson children seemed to have one thing in common. a deep appreciation for the indulgent and luxurious things in life. All of the brothers were getting tailor made suits for the ball, with Rebekah getting her dress flown in promptly from Milan after having seen it in a magazine once some months ago.
Kol was the first to have his suit meticulously crafted. He stood before a full-length mirror admiring intricate ruffles adorning the ends of his white and black spotted sleeves. Kol's aim for tonight, and every night, was to stand out. He enjoyed that fashion of the 21st century, there were more options that he could play with and all of them looked excellent on him. Rather than wear a boring traditional three-piece suit Kol switched out the black vest for a maroon velvet vest decorated with metal chains and his trusty pocket watch. He kept the black suit but opted to have a hint of white slashes sewn into his jacket and trouser. Making the ensemble a bit more eye-catching.
Grinning proudly at the tailor's impeccable work, Kol turned to his sister, Rebekah, who was preoccupied with a manicurist "Rebekah?" he called
She glanced up, a smile curving her lips. "Tell me how handsome I am."
"Ah Kol, you know I can't be compelled," she quips, returning her attention to the diligent manicurist who was applying a deep shade of red to her nails.
In a quiet corner of the room, Elijah busied himself with fabric samples, providing a multitude of options for Finn to choose from. He overheard the playful banter between Kol and Rebekah and Finn couldn't help but smile, glad that, for once, his siblings were getting along.
But of course, Niklaus had to ruin things.
Klaus entered the room with heavy footsteps, anger radiating from him. He halted in front of Rebekah, his voice seething with irritation. "You went after Elena? What is wrong with you?!" he rages.
"Here we go," she muttered, waving the manicurist off. She scurried off, hoping to avoid being caught up in a family dispute.
"I understand you are angry, but I still need her blood to make hybrids. She is not to be harmed." Klaus scolded, his frustration evident.
"I barely touched her. Elijah ruined my fun." Rebekah pouted, reclining into the couch.
Elijah, overhearing their conversation, discreetly stepped back, shaking his head. "No, no, I prefer to stay out of this one," he returned his focus to showing Finn a variety of black ties he could wear tonight.
"Why do you need more hybrids anyway? Creating a backup family?" Rebekah taunted.
"No, I need them to do my evil deeds," Klaus quips.
"You don't have to be such a bloody wanker," Rebekah sneers.
"And you don't have to be such a muppet. I don't care who you maim, drain or murder so long as it's not the doppelgänger." Klaus pressed his hands together in exacerbation, his tone lowering as he bent down to Rebekah's level. "Once I'm done with her, I promise you will be the one that kills her."
"Really?" Rebekah's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Yes."
"Fine. But don't keep me waiting."
Unable to help himself, Elijah turned back to his siblings and asked, "Are you really going to let Rebekah kill the poor girl?"
"I thought you were staying out of it?" Rebekah turned to face her brother, glaring at him trying to keep her from killing the bloody trollop.
"She's an innocent young woman," Elijah reasoned, coming closer to the couches, leaving Finn to examine the fabric samples on his own.
"Innocent?" Klaus scoffs, standing upright. "She's attacked our sister, called our father here to kill me and help hide you lot from me."
"Elijah's just distracted by her doppely face. He always was more susceptible to them," Kol chimed in, smirking at his siblings from the mirror.
"Bite your tongue."
"Why don't you make me?" Kol stepped away from the mirror and into the centre of the room.
All the siblings begin to argue about Elijah's desire to be better than the rest of them, landing quips and friendly jabs at his expense. Sitting alone in the corner of the room, Finn continued to look through the fabric samples alone, unable to help the small smile that crept upon his lips. Despite knowing what's to come, he was glad to witness this. The bickering that makes up a loving family.
This was how he wanted to remember them.
….
At an undisclosed underground location, Olive cautiously pushed open a rusty metal door, which emitted a forlorn creak as it yielded to her touch. The sound of her footsteps echoed on the worn stone stairs as she ventured deeper into the subterranean labyrinth. She traversed a dimly lit corridor lined with doors that bore the marks of age and neglect. Each door sported a small, obscure window that revealed only hazy, indistinct figures beyond. The vampire made her way past several of these enigmatic portals, a sense of desolation hanging in the cold, damp air.
The hallway extended into the distance, its sparse illumination provided by sporadically flickering fluorescent lights overhead. It was a place shadowed by secrecy and time's relentless march. The doors, with their battered surfaces, were windows into a world veiled in mystery. Through the frosted glass panes, faint outlines of prisoners could be seen, engaged in repetitive activities, their movements almost hypnotic. The rhythmic clinks of metal needles and the soft rustling of yarn filled the otherwise silent corridor.
Inside each room, a guard stood watch, their presence a constant reminder of the prisoners' captivity. Dressed in stern uniforms, they kept an unwavering eye on the inmates, ensuring they carried out their assigned tasks with diligence and precision. The relentless gaze of the guards contributed to the pervasive atmosphere of oppression that hung heavily in the air.
The passage itself appeared unfinished and stark, exposing rough, exposed pipes and wires that snaked along the walls. The modern surveillance technology, embodied by sterile cameras mounted at intervals along the hallway, contrasted sharply with the bleak, antiquated setting. The clash of eras, coupled with the grim, under-construction appearance of the facility, rendered the underground complex an unsettling and disconcerting place.
In this oppressive, disconcerting place, Olive eventually stopped in front of one of the doors, her knock breaking the eerie silence that pervades the underground passage.
One of Olive's loyal followers, Parker, granted her entry without diverting his attention from a peculiar task he was engrossed in on the floor. The room was strewn with a multitude of stuffed animals, each exhibiting signs of wear and tear. Limbs dangled, seams hung frayed, and tufts of stuffing protruded from the damaged plush bodies. In the midst of this strange collection, Tyler was seated, surrounded by no fewer than fifty wounded toys. He worked diligently, clutching a needle in his hand, endeavouring to mend these forlorn playthings.
Olive strolled around the room, her observant gaze lingering on the worn and torn stuffed animals scattered across the floor. All bore the marks of damage: limbs rudely torn, seams fraying at the edges, and squishy stuffing escaping from their seams. Tyler remained engrossed in his mending work, surrounded by this unique assembly of wounded toys.
"I would have expected at least half of these to be fixed by now," Olive remarked, her eyes scanning the forlorn-looking stuffed animals.
"I'm not really a sewing kind of guy. Excuse me for being slow," Tyler groaned without lifting his gaze from the task at hand.
"Oh, I know exactly what kind of guy you are." Olive leaned against a table in the corner, where a group of ten completed animals were arranged. "These three need to be redone," she instructed. "The stitching is too loose."
"What? Why?" Tyler questioned, finally looking up at her with a furrowed brow.
"The stitching is loose."
"Alright," he grumbled. "I thought you said that I wasn't allowed visitors?"
Olive, retrieving Tyler's phone from her jacket pocket, before offering an explanation, "Special circumstances. Caroline's dad died last night."
"What? Was it beca-" Tyler began, but Olive swiftly interjected.
"No. Someone attacked him after he was discharged. Call her. But don't say anything about where you are," she instructed, tossing the phone to him. Tyler caught it and immediately scrolled through his phone for his girlfriend's number. Olive turned her attention to the guard who was comfortably ensconced in a corner lounge chair. "Take the phone when he's done." Parker nodded.
As Olive exited the room, she faintly overheard Tyler leaving a voice message for the grieving vampire, "Caroline, it's Tyler. I know-"
Just as Olive was about to ascend the stairs and leave, one of the doors slowly swung open, and a vampire emerged, heading in her direction.
"Did you have any trouble last night?" Olive asked.
The vampire's demeanour indicated otherwise as they responded, "Not really. But something interesting did happen."
….
Caroline and Elena found themselves nestled in the dimly lit confines of a cosy booth at the Grill. They huddled together, speaking in hushed tones, crafting an aura of secrecy that shielded their words from prying ears.
"It's all so weird. The Originals are throwing a ball. Like an actual ball," Elena mused, her forehead creased with confusion.
"It's some twisted Cinderella fetish is what it is." Leaning in closer, Caroline lowered her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. "And why does the evil witch want an audience with you?"
Elena, the doppelgänger, eased back, her expression etched with curiosity. "I have no idea. There's only one way to find out."
"I thought you told Damon and Stefan that you weren't going," the vampire questions.
"I did, which is all the more reason why I need a drama free bodyguard."
"Well, I think Salvatore would look a lot better in a tux. And by that, I mean Stefan."
"Ahh, I can't deal with either of the Salvatores right now. Whatever Stefan is feeling, he is channelling it all against Klaus. And Damon…. it's just not a good idea." Elena confided, punctuating her thoughts with a sip of her iced tea.
"Why, cause you two made out?" Elena inhaled sharply, choking on her iced tea. Coughing, she turned to Caroline, her expression one of utter astonishment. "Bonnie spilled the beans," Caroline confessed.
Elena's eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by this revelation. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before mustering out, "I was going to tell you. Just, after everything that happened with your dad…."
"Elena, when you and Matt kissed for the first-time freshman year, you called me the second it happened. And now I don't hear about this till now, and from somebody else."
"I'm sorry. It's just me, I don't even know how I feel about it yet." She shrugged helplessly. "All I do know is that it just used to be so much easier." She looked back down at her drink, thinking about how life used to be. Before vampires and witches and werewolves. Before the accident.
"Tell me about it. Tyler still hasn't shown up and all I got from him was a lousy vague voicemail," the vampire griped, a trace of anxiety lining her words. "I thought he would just be here for me." Despite their breakup, she still loved him, and she knew-thought he still did too. She just didn't know what to think anymore.
"I'm not Tyler's biggest fan right now but I can't say that I blame him. I mean, who knows what Olive is making him do," The doppelgänger empathised, she knew that despite Olive's small act of kindness towards her on the bridge, she was still a dangerous enemy that had lined herself with Klaus.
"Olive? Who's Olive?" Caroline's puzzled expression spoke volumes.
"She's -she's the one that made Jeremy stab himself. I thought you knew," Elena frowned, somewhat surprised that Caroline was in the dark about the vampire.
"Does it look like I knew?" Caroline exclaimed, her hands flung upward dramatically. "I knew what he did to Jeremy, but no one ever mentioned Olive. See this is what I was talking about. We have to talk more. Invite each other in or else things slip through the cracks," she preached passionately.
"You're right. You're absolutely right. I promise I will do better. And if I fail, I'm sure you will correct me," Elena promised, smiling.
"That's what I'm here for. Now, about this Olive. What's her deal?"
"She's Klaus' girlfriend, I think. According to Alaric she's some vampire legend who has Tyler under her thumb."
"Bitch," Caroline exclaimed, her disdain evident.
Approaching from behind, Rebekah sauntered over to the booth, her voice lowering into a sarcastic stage whisper as she leaned down, "Careful Caroline. It's all well and good until she stabs you in the back."
A nervous Elena couldn't help but inquire, "What are you doing here? I know your mum's rules. No hurting the locals."
"Get over yourself Elena. It's not all about you," Rebekah stated, her eyes rolling in annoyance.
The Original pulled herself away from the pair and made her way over to Matt who was diligently clearing a table of dirty dishes. Caroline and Elena watched dumbfounded as Rebekah personally delivered an invitation to the Mikaelson ball to Matt.
"Oh my god. She's inviting him to the ball. Why is she inviting him?" Caroline exclaimed, her bewilderment growing louder with each word.
"Probably to get this reaction from us," Elena muttered, utterly baffled.
Caroline scoffed, crossing her arms and leaned back in her chair as she eyed the couple with evident distaste. "What time is this stupid dance?"
….
Despite the fact that majority of the Mystic Falls residents were unaware of the supernatural world and the enigmatic Mikaelsons, their impressive new mansion drew many envious eyes their way, so when it was announced that the newcomers would be hosting a welcoming party, who could they resist? Rumours of an open bar were simply the cherry on top of this curious tree. Elegantly dressed women and sharply suited men gracefully swarmed the grand house, their expressions filled with awe and anticipation. Those who were privy to the Mikaelsons' dark reputation were especially eager for a night brimming with the promise of drama and intrigue.
The mansion's grand hall was a symphony of opulence. Fairy lights, like celestial constellations, dangled from nearly invisible clear wires, casting a warm, ethereal glow that infused the room with enchantment. Delicate decorative flowers were thoughtfully placed around the hall, their natural beauty harmonising with the lavish setting. Vines, lush and vibrant, elegantly crawled up the doorways, marrying nature and luxury.
The waitstaff, clad in sleek all-black attire, moved gracefully among the guests, ensuring impeccable service. The gathering of guests, exuding elegance, their gowns and suits a testament to refined taste, filled the hall with lively conversations and laughter.
Glass doors revealed a meticulously landscaped garden, its pathway illuminated by more fairy lights and lanterns, leading to a majestic grand oak tree. The garden, a serene oasis of tranquillity, provided a breathtaking backdrop to the festivities, inviting guests to explore its beauty and savour the enchantment of the evening.
Near the grand staircase, a group of skilled musicians played soft, melodic tunes, their music adding an extra layer of sophistication to the ambiance. The notes filled the hall with a soothing, harmonious melody, encouraging guests to dance, converse, and fully immerse themselves in the magical experience of the evening.
The mansion's spacious halls were a melting pot, where vampires, humans, and hybrids mingled, some blissfully unaware of the supernatural amalgamation surrounding them, as laughter and jests resonated through the air.
Amidst the crowd, Damon Salvatore navigated his way through the eager guests, heading towards the bar. He had been at the mansion for a little over 30 minutes and he was yet to spot any of the honoured hosts. Before reaching the bar, he noticed a waiter offering a tray of prosecco and gladly accepted the much needed glass. As he savoured the refreshing sip, he sensed someone approaching from the side.
A woman, elegantly attired in a long pink dress, drifted towards him, her own glass in hand, her lips curved in a knowing smile. Damon observed her closely, feeling decidedly unimpressed by her underwhelmed expression.
"You must be the famous Damon Salvatore. I expected you to be taller," she remarked, her eyes roaming over him in a less-than-enthused manner.
"Sorry to disappoint," he quipped with a touch of sarcasm. "Do I know you?"
"I'm Rayleen. I'm Olive's best friend."
"You know-"
"Yes. And I can't for the life of me see any resemblance between you. She's by far the best person I have ever met." Rayleen inspected Damon from head to toe, her face twisted in mild disdain. "And you seem like a huge asshole."
Damon's patience wore thin. "You don't even know me," he remarked, his irritation mounting. The thought briefly crossed his mind of whether eliminating her would actually worsen his already strained relationship with his sister, in the grand scheme of things. She already loathed him, could she really loathe him anymore than this?
"I know enough. And I'm just…. under whelmed really," Rayleen shrugged, looking somewhat disappointed. She had known Olive for years, seen her at her worst because of what the Salvatore's did. For years she imagined coming face to face with one of them and making them suffer half as much as Olive had. But looking at him, she was disappointed. He didn't seem worth the effort.
"Did you just come here to insult me?"
"No, that's just an added bonus." Rayleen responded with a cheeky smile at the young vampire. "I wanted to tell you to watch yourself. Olive has been through enough without you trying to start up something again. If you don't leave her alone, I will cut your fucking dick off. Got it"
Unfazed, Damon's grin was laced with sarcasm as he challenged the vampire. "You can't stop me from talking to my sister."
"That's where you're wrong." Rayleen boldly snatched the drink from Damon's hand before he could react, leaving him momentarily stunned and agitated.
Damon scowled at the vampire's audacity, his gaze only softening when he saw Rayleen enveloped in a warm hug from his sister across the room. As they parted, chattering animatedly with smiles and laughter; like he had never seen before. The vampire was so enamoured with watching the display of sisterly affection that he didn't notice Bonnie coming up to him.
"Who are you staring at?" Bonnie inquired, her gaze following Damon's as he remained entranced by the captivating scene.
"Witchy, what are you doing here?" Damon turned to the Bennett Witch, his face marked with surprise. "I would have thought this place would be your worst nightmare."
"I got an invitation. From Olive," she confessed, casting her eyes around the room, searching for the elusive vampire who, along with her malevolent boyfriend, had been terrorising the town.
"Olive?" The vampire arched his eyebrows, perplexed with what his sister could want with the young witch. Nothing good he imagined.
"Yea, do you know which one she is?"
"You're not talking to her," Damon declared.
"Why not?" Bonnie questioned, raising an eyebrow at his forceful tone, one she typically associated with his protective nature towards Elena.
"What is it with this town with people wanting to sit down with their enemies?" he asked rhetorically.
"You literally had dinner with your enemies yesterday," she sassed, poking him in the chest.
"That's different, I know what I'm doing."
"That would be a first," Bonnie muttered under her breath.
"What does she want with you?"
"She just said she wanted to talk to me. How dangerous is she?"
"Just stay away from her and you'll be fine."
The witch nodded, not really taking his words with much authority. When was the last time Damon was right about something anyway? As she looked around the room, attempting to spot Olive, her imagination painted a vivid image of the vampire in an explicitly villainous black leather dress. Instead, she spotted Elena entering through the front door.
"I thought Elena wasn't coming," Bonnie wondered out loud.
Damon abruptly turned his head to the front door, his expression a blend of astonishment and annoyance upon seeing the doppelgänger's entrance. Without taking his eyes off her, he gave Bonnie a distracted, "Excuse me." before striding towards Elena.
Leaving them to their own devices, Bonnie merely advised, "Try not to make a scene."
"No promises."
Left to her own devices, Bonnie leisurely strolled through the enthusiastic crowd, casually snagging an hors d'oeuvre from a passing waitress. She continued to survey the room, her attention caught by her friend being escorted through the grand hall with a Salvatore on each arm. The witch rolled her eyes at Elena's antics, somewhat disappointed but not entirely surprised. It wasn't her place to tell Elena what to do, especially regarding her love life, but she doubted Elena knew what she was doing.
As Bonnie shifted her gaze towards the grand spiral staircase, her eyes fell upon a mysterious woman standing before her.
"Hi, Bonnie. I'm Olive."