i do not own vampire diaries just this plot bunny.
Chapter One: Brother?
Klaus was at his wits end. Marcel's witch was walking around in a stupor, his entire family was standing in the middle of his foyer and he had an aunt that he had thought long since dead, coming after his daughter. He was not in a mood to deal with any other problems. And he had hoped there wouldn't be anymore. Silas was dead, the veil to the Other Side was closed and he had happily left the doppelganger and her merry band of idiots behind in his rear-view mirror. There was nothing left for him there; though perhaps he would stop by to see if he could seduce Caroline or get Stefan to rejoin him. He did miss his brother.
Speaking of brothers, Elijah and Kol were currently arguing with Finn. He also had his sister on edge and his mother and father picking sides or throwing jabs at him. Hope, nestled in her mother's arms, was blissfully unaware of the chaos happening around her thankfully.
He opened his mouth to speak, when someone else beat him to it.
"Well, isn't this just quaint?"
The entire Mikaelson clan turned to the woman lounging on the couch. Sitting up, she let her eyes move from every person in the room and briefly settled on Hope. The small smile that graced her face was brief before she finally settled on the one person who hadn't moved.
Davina Claire was off in space. Where she was no one knew. She was unaware of the woman who was moving from the couch to her. Kol moved to stop her but was stopped with the wave of her hand.
"Witch," hissed Mikael. The comment didn't go without touching a nerve. Esther flinched at her husband's tone. The woman paused, sparing a glance at Mikael and then brushed him off. She turned to the teenager.
"Davina Claire," she addressed. Hazed blue eyes looked up at the sound of her voice. The woman was beautiful, and her smile seemed too familiar to Davina. Her skin was the color of cinnamon and her hair curled and a deep brown, almost black. She radiated power and yet her magic seemed to wrap around Davina like a cloak. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.
"You know who I am."
"Qetsiyah."
Bonnie had been wondering the streets of New Orleans for the past hour. She wasn't sure what brought her here, but she remembered the tug in her gut. She had been talking with Jeremy about not having him tell Damon about her death. Before she reinforces her statement, something had pull her from Mystic Falls. She had found herself in the middle of Bourbon Street, as people milled about and took in the sights.
What was she doing here? Who had been thinking about her? The only person she could think of was Klaus. He had taken up residency in this city. He was adamant on being king, or so she had heard from Caroline whenever she popped in to check on her. She hadn't tried to check up on Damon and Elena. They were too preoccupied with each other's company. She had made that mistake once and wasn't going to chance it again. The witch shook her head. She was getting off track.
Focus Bonnie. What brought you here? She surveyed the surrounding areas. There was a couple tasting beignets, the woman giggling as she licked her fingers clean of the powdered sugar. Her boyfriend was sharing in her laugh, before he dipped down to steal a kiss from her. The woman gave a small smile but pulled him in for another kiss. Bonnie turned her eyes on anything else, wanting to give them privacy. Another couple, this one a same sex one, was walking past the first, holding hands and pointing at various places they would investigate.
Bonnie turned to look for anything else and suddenly her eyes landed on a shop. It was a witch's store. Waltzing along the sidewalk, she peered inside. There was a witch behind the counter, conversing with a customer. She knew the witch wasn't the one who thought of her, but the tug in her stomach caused her to keep her eyes on the customer.
He was tall and while she couldn't see his face, she was able to see the dark hair. He paused mid conversation and turned his eyes towards the window. He looked like he was peering right into Bonnie's very being. His eyes were dark, a deep almost endless brown. He was clean shaved, with short but styled dark hair. His jawline was angled, and Bonnie wasn't sure, but a shiver coursed through her as those dark eyes seemed to catch sight of her. A smile tugged at his lips, but he turned his eyes back to the woman at the counter.
Bonnie pressed the palms of her hands against the windowpane. He looked at her.
He looked right at her-whoever he was. Maybe he was an old student of Grams? Did he know Abby? Lucy perhaps? Just who was he?
She wanted to know-need to know.
She felt the tug in her gut. No.
No, no.
No, no, no, no, no!
She wasn't ready to go back. She needed to know who he was. But it was too late. The tug was pulled, and Bonnie found herself whisked away from the window, away from New Orleans and back in the middle of the Salvatore manor.
"Bonnie's dead," was the first thing she was met with.
Tessa was ignoring the chaos around her. Her eyes were focused on the young witch in front of her while the family of idiots behind her tried to out talk each other. She was still the same as she had been the last time, she saw her. She had much of her father in her. The dark brown hair, the way she peered up at her with those deep blue eyes. Tessa had been sad when she hadn't inherited the hazel or green of her family, not even the brown that some of her descendants had gotten. Hell, she would have taken the deep brown of her father's.
Anything but the persistent blue. She had enough of looking at it when she had to listen to the elder Salvatore speak. Tessa groaned; she was getting off track. She reached out and took hold of Davina's hands. They were much bigger than the last time she had taken hold of them. Back then, all those years ago, Davina had been much smaller.
"Davina Claire," she spoke, and those blue eyes peered at her with the same curiosity her mother possessed. The way she tilted her head just slightly, or how she arched her eyebrow like her father. Tessa continued, "are you ready to wake up dear?"
Klaus was the first to speak. "Well darling, if you're in the business of waking people up, start with the witch. She seems to be broken after a rough with my family."
Tessa had to shut her eyes and count down from ten. How the hell was this idiot related Henry? She craned her eyes back to the hybrid, eyes shimmering with magic. He seemed to pause, feeling like he was in another place.
"Wake up?" Rebekah asked. "Davina is perfectly fine."
Tessa ignored her and spoke directly to Davina. "Your dreams have been different, haven't they? Almost like you're remembering another life. A cottage in the French countryside, watching a couple dance?"
"Watching it burn to the ground," Davina whispered, remembering her last dream. The dream had been haunting her since she woke up screaming that morning. Marcel was out right now trying to get answers from Vincent or any witch in the Quarter. She kept her eyes on the woman, searching for answers. "How do you know about my dreams?"
Tessa grinned and let her magic wrap around her again. "Because sweetling, you're my blood."
Elijah spoke. "That's impossible. The Bennetts have never crossed paths with the Claires."
"Always the historian," mumbled Klaus before he spoke to Tessa. "My brother is right. Davina isn't a Bennett."
"Yes, she is," Tessa said. "I delivered her."
The room grew quiet at that. Klaus opened his mouth to speak when Marcel stormed into the room, shouting his name. The hybrid turned to his Childe, ready to dismiss him when his eyes caught sight of the man standing beside him. Tessa noticed them as well and sighed loudly.
"Took you long enough."
The newcomer smiled at her. "I did need to get ingredients." He held up the bag in his hand and tossed it in Tessa's direction. She caught it with ease and smiled at him.
"Thank you, Henry."
The man chuckled, giving a shake of his head. "You're welcome," he replied. The softness in his brown eyes hardened a second later. "Will you be leaving now?"
Tessa huffed. "I'd like to stay and see that the spell works with her. Also, to see how this goes down. You know I can't pass up the chance at seeing drama unfold."
Henry frowned at her. "Tess," his tone held an edge. "I would prefer it that you got to work with your end of the plan."
The way he commanded her reminded the siblings of Elijah. Tessa snorted at him. "Acting like a big man in front of them? Sweetheart, you're not fooling anybody. Besides, I can't do anything without her body."
"Don't you have someone for that? The shadow, I presume?"
"You presume correctly."
Henry pinched his nose. "You are aware that he was trapped in a safe for three months? He could very well tear her body apart."
"He can't harm her," Tessa said with a wave of her hand. "He's spelled."
"Spelled," Henry snorted again. "You have the Ripper of Monterey playing fetch with your family."
"If he so much as thinks anything malicious towards her, he's back to the safe." Tessa said with a shrug of her shoulders. She turned back to Davina, pushing her forward with a hand on her back. Davina stumbled and bumped right into the man.
She frowned, looking up into eerily familiar deep brown eyes. She reached out, tracing his face. He hadn't changed much except for being clean shaved. She remembers a light scruff, laugh lines around his eyes. She remembers him picking her up and spinning her around, tucking her in at night.
But now can she remember that? His hands encased hers and then moved from hers after a reassuring squeeze. He framed her face in his hands. She felt his magic wrap around her like a cocoon, warm like Qetsiyah's had been. He rested his forehead against hers.
"Frange qui ligat, Praeterita restituet, Liberate me de isto carmine tandem," he chanted and she found herself repeating the words. They wrapped around her, the air growing heavy with magic. She reached up, holding onto his hands, squeezing tight as they repeat the words. She could hear Marcel, far off and distant. But she kept repeating the words as memories flashed across her eyes.
A young girl being awoke in the middle of the night. Henry sat above her, a cloak and bag strapped to his back. His eyes were sad as he scooped up the groggy child. "Wha...?" she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"We have to go, sweetie."
"What's wrong?" she murmured into his shoulder. He draped the cloak around them and grabbed a stuffed bear. She could hear how quiet it was outside, and as they made their way inside in the foyer of the cottage, she saw her mama. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and Davina frowned. "Why's mama crying?"
Her mother choked but reached for her and planted a kiss to her cheek. "Mama loves you, very much, Starlight."
"I love you too," Davina frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Mama wants you to know, this isn't the end." Davina reached for her mother, but she kissed both her cheeks, her forehead and whispered a spell. "Keep Papa happy okay? Just until we see each other again."
"Mama..."
"Promise me, Davina." Her mother's voice cracked softly.
"I promise, Mama."
Her mother kissed her one last time, whispering she loved her. Her parents shared a kiss, one that had her mommy crying and her father was caressing her cheek, almost like he was remembering this. Their eyes locked, an unspoken promise between them.
"Papa," Davina said, but her father was rushing from the cottage. "Papa, we have to go back. Mama is still there! We can't just leave her!"
Davina watched, eyes wide with horror, as the cottage she had grown up in, was burned to the ground, her mother still inside. It was the last thing she saw before her father whispered a sleeping spell.
Davina slipped into unconsciousness, slumping against Henry's form. Her fingers dragged the front of his shirt, and as he turned to place her on the couch, the entire Mikaelson clan caught sight of the scars on his chest. Claw marks.
Esther stared at the young man. He was no older than his twenties, she was going to say roughly twenty-four or twenty-five, within Finn and Elijah's ages when they were turned. His hair was a dark brown, but she could see how it fell and reminded her of Elijah's. His body was toned, he had the body of a young man who could have been a warrior in another life. Magic pulsed in his veins, and she stilled as she felt traces of her own underlining it. He was cradling the Claire witch tenderly and as he set her on the couch, he did something that had her heart splintering.
He ran his fingers through her bangs, smoothing them and once she was content, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
She had done that to her children when they were young. She had done that to Henrik as he took his last breathes. She had smoothed his bangs and kissed his forehead, whispering softly in Old Norse. The young man before her, whispered to Davina Claire in French, but the gesture was there.
"Who the hell are you?" Marcel breathed out. The young man moved aside, allowing the vampire to settled beside the girl he had come to see as a daughter. He whispered softly for her to wake up, to do something. Davina hummed, settling into Marcel's touch. The vampire looked at the warlock, asking again. "Who the hell are you?"
Tessa huffed. She had no patience for this. She addressed the warlock as well. "In case you're forgetting, we're on a schedule."
Brown eyes turned to his companion. "Oh, grand creator, do introduce me."
Tessa snorted. "You're on your own. I have a promise to keep, the Other Side to fix and a doppelganger to torment. See you in Mystic Falls. Oh," she paused, and her eyes shimmered again, her magic wrapping around her. The grin she wore resembled the Cheshire cat. " don't be late, Henrik."
She vanished from sight. Henrik Mikaelson turned his eyes on the shocked and disbelieving eyes of his family. He sighed and turned fully towards them. He supposed now would not be the time to inform them of his connections to Davina.
"I suppose you have questions."
