I do not own vampire diaries; I just own this plot bunny.
Chapter Thirteen
Although her lips were pursed up in thoughtfulness, Bonnie looked ready to hurl the book in her hands towards a wall. It was the fourth book she had gone through in the hours they had been in one of Klaus's many safe houses. Tessa and Henrik had decided to accompany her, while the others had split off. She didn't envy Stefan for the tension he was going to endure. It was bad enough he was trapped in a room with his ex-girlfriend; who happened to share the face of his last ex-girlfriend. But fate was also cruel enough to have his first lover in the same room; who happened to be her daughter.
That conversation had been embarrassing for both of them. Bonnie could still see how red Davina had been, even up to her ears. She even flicked a lock of hair out of her face as a means of distracting herself. Something Bonnie could faintly remember Tessa doing during her courtship to Silas.
The pout quickly turned into a scowl at the thought of Silas. Dead he may be, but his presence was engrained into Bonnie's memories. There was also Stefan, but their similarities ended at looks. Bonnie was grateful to the Spirits for that bit of peace. She shut the book and set it on the desk, the pounding in the center of her forehead told her a migraine was coming on.
How was one woman basically a ghost?
"It isn't hard," Tessa answered, not looking up from the leather-bound journal in her hand. She never looked up at Bonnie, even when her sister frowned in confusion. "You said that out loud."
"Oh," Bonnie turned her gaze to Henrik. He was emersed in a book of his own, though she could see the smile on his lips. She felt her cheek warm in embarrassment. Way to go, Bennett.
After a few moments, she reached into the pile of unread books, fingers skimming over the soft velvet cover of a journal with the initials 'E.M.' on it. Elijah's personal thoughts did not sound rather interesting to her, but she anything knew anything could be used to find Dahlia. With that in mind, she cracked open the book and set her eyes on the first few words on the thin, yellowed page.
Quaint, as she had previously thought, had quickly turned to bothersome.
Dahlia set her eyes on the map of the town. Drops of her blood laid out on the page and she waited for it to search for Freya. The stubborn girl had not been in New Orleans and after feeling for her magic, she found her here; returned to the place her family had fled.
She knew Esther was here; her sister's magic was blanketed over the town. If her sister had returned to Europe with her, she could find hers was settled over the town that was once their own village. It brought a whistful smile to Dahlia's lips. Once upon a time, it had been just her and her sister and they had been happy. They practiced magic in the woods, danced naked under the stars, and basked in the moonlight.
And all of that changed the day raiders had come and with them, the barbarian by the name of Mikael.
He had taken so much from her, starting with her home and then her sister. Esther could say she went willingly all she wanted, but Dahlia knew the truth. Her sister was weak-hearted and she had been since their youth. She had longed to have a loving husband and children to fill her home. Instead, she was given a man who domineered her life and monsters for children. All of them except for Freya.
Her niece was the one pure thing her sister produced. Magic flowed in abundance within the girl and she could still remember the day she fell in love with the child. A small thing, no older than four years with the biggest green eyes she had ever seen. She reminded Dahlia of her sister and it made her think: she could start again. Freya would be her new Esther; her new family. They were of blood and blood never lied. Blood magic never lied.
She could still remember the tears in Esther's eyes, hear her pleads to forgo the deal they had made.
"Spare my child," she had begged. "please sister, I can not part from her. She is my child."
Dahlia had thought on it. She truly had. But in the end, the elder had reached out, cradling her younger's face in her hands. She had wiped away the tears with the pads of her thumb, and with a tender smile, she answered her.
"A deal is a deal, Esther."
Esther had cried, but no sound left her. Magic had gripped her vocal cords and bound her silent. All she could do was watch as Dahlia walked into the house she had built for her husband and children. She had walked into the area the children slept in; a little girl of four years and a babe of one. She had been enraptured by those soft blonde curls, so much like her mother's, and cradled her to her chest.
Dahlia fell in love with the child against her bosom, so small and flushed in the cheeks. She felt her heart soar for the first time in years. Years would pass before that same child became a woman. A woman who had men's eyes turned to follow her and other women glaring at her beauty. A beauty that, much like the magic in her blood, needed to be preserved.
She had never wanted to hide her niece away, but it had to be done. Her siblings were monsters, and her parents were no better. Freya needed to be safe.
She needed to be by Dahlia's side and not just her either. Apparently, Esther's bastard had sired a child of his own. She had heard the tales of the Original Hybrid laying with a werewolf. The child they produced was a powerhouse of magic; one that Dahlia needed on her side. For her own family.
The blood remained unmoved and it set off a tick in her jaw. She was about to whisper a burning incantation when she paused. The blood didn't move from the spot it had fallen, but another droplet was forming and it pulsed with magic.
It was foreign magic, but also familiar. Dahlia walked up to the map and let her finger pressed into the droplet. The magic pulsed again and she shivered as an image came to her.
A young girl, no older than sixteen, maybe seventeen years. She was settled into the window nook of a manor, the sunlight basking her in a glow. A book was opened on her lap and she was humming softly as she read. Her fingers moved along the page. Dahlia frowned at the girl and watched as she looked up as if feeling eyes on her.
The breath left her as she stared into blue eyes. She knew those eyes; remembered seeing them through smoke and fire as he came marching into their village. Those were Mikael's eyes, those same blue eyes his daughter Rebekah had inherited. But she noticed there was something different about those eyes.
They were kinder. she realized. She shuddered at the sight and before she could get a closer look at those eyes, at the girl's face, that image faded, and in its place was another.
A young man stood in the center of a room, the same girl from earlier in front of him. Only she was younger now; perhaps no older than ten. Her hair was braided into a French braid and she wore clothes that were centuries old. They looked to be in the countryside somewhere. The young man had his hands out, palms up and the child's smaller ones were resting in his. She couldn't hear the words being spoken but she wasn't focused on that.
She was focused on those eyes. Deep, brown, and warm.
Those were Esther's eyes.
The image dissolved, burning away and leaving her in front of the map, her finger wet with blood.
She felt her heart skip.
How peculiar.
The boardinghouse awoke in the after-hours of midnight to the sounds of a baby's crying. Hope laid in her crib, her eyes wet with tears and her cries increasing. Hayley came rushing into the room and reached out for her daughter, settling her against her chest.
She rocked her child, trying to soothe her. "It's okay, Hope. Mommy's here now," she cooed. She hummed a bit of the lullaby she had heard Klaus sing to her and found it helped a bit. The cries had quieted but she could still smell the tears. From the bedside, Klaus watched on.
"You should trying singing to her," he offered.
"Humming works best for me," she told him. As their daughter settled, Hayley peered down at her. Her own eyes stared up at her and she smiled softly. "There you go," she whispered lovingly. "All better now?"
The babe cooed and reached up a hand to her mother. Hayley took hold of her hand as it wrapped around her finger and kissed it. She took a glance at the hybrid. "Scooch over," she told him. With a snort, he did. Hayley settled down and then laid Hope out between them. A soft silence formed between the two as they watched their child try and fight off sleep.
"What do you think her crying was about?" Hayley asked after a few minutes. Hope cooed softly, kicking her legs.
"Not quite sure," he murmured. "I would assume a warning about Dahlia, but I could be wrong. Perhaps she was just worried about something else. Babes are quite interesting."
Hayley laughed. "Right," she said with a joking grin. They watched as the little girl slowly fell asleep. A few moments later, Hayley quietly moved from the bed. "I should get back to Elijah."
Klaus nodded though he wanted to really roll his eyes. His brother couldn't be jealous of their bond. They were raising a child together. "I'll keep watch over her."
The she-wolf nodded and arose. She quickly took the pillows that she had been perched up again and set them against her daughter's side. Safety first, she thought. With a final nod to the hybrid, she left the room.
She stopped a few doors down when she saw Bonnie and Davina. The teenager looked absolutely terrified and Bonnie was keeping her still with a hand on her shoulder. Davina's eyes widened at the sight of the she-wolf.
"Is Hope okay?" she asked.
Hayley nodded, touched by her concern. "She's fine, sleeping with her dad."
Bonnie peered at her own child, whose shoulders slumped at the news. "Can I just check?"
"Davina," Bonnie said gently. "You can check in the morning. I may not trust Klaus as far as I throw him, but I do know he will do anything for family. Including his own daughter," she finished and patted her shoulder. "Now come on, let's get you some sleep."
"But mom," Davina huffed.
"Come on," she laughed and they left the she-wolf with a smile and a wave. As Bonnie sent Davina off to bed, she stilled at the hum of magic coming from Klaus's room. The magic felt - transformative. She moved to go towards the room when a hand grabbed her arm. She glanced back to see Henrik, who shook his head.
"Go to bed beloved," he advised, kissing her temple.
"But," she started. "Something's wrong,"
"Not wrong," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "Hope will be fine," he promised.
