Her bedroom was brightly lit, by that afternoon sun that streamed through the open doors that led out onto her balcony, casting a warm glow across the three of them as they sprawled comfortably in her plush, overstuffed beanbags. Sora, her eyebrows arching in disbelief, leaned forward, her curiosity piqued by Maya's explanation of what had occurred the previous night, and how that related to her instructing them to bring clothes suitable for a ball.

"Wait, so your grandmother who died a thousand years ago is mysteriously back from the dead, and your family are just throwing a ball like that's nothing?"

Maya nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in a bemused smile. She'd been just as surprised and had a whirlwind of questions about, well, pretty much everything. She was pretty sure Babbo, her dad, and all her various aunts and uncles did as well. But Esther—her grandmother—had insisted on throwing a ball to establish their family's place in town, and that was that.

"Right, and we're both invited because...?" Kamala interjected, her head tilted in playful suspicion, her smirk teasing the edges of a more serious intrigue. She lounged back, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface of the beanbag.

"Because I have to go, but Babbo didn't want me to be bored out of my mind. And you two were both sleeping over this weekend anyway, so it just made sense to invite you along," Maya explained, spreading her hands in a gesture that suggested it was all quite obvious.

"And your grandmother was okay with that?" Sora pressed further, leaning closer, her eyes narrowing slightly with genuine concern and curiosity.

"Yeah. I think everyone pointed out that I would be pretty bored at a ball without anyone my own age to keep me company," Maya replied, her voice laced with gratitude. Her eyes twinkled, reflecting both the sunlight and her appreciation for her family's understanding.

"Why not ask Ronan?" Kamala chimed in, leaning forward, her gaze fixed on Maya with an intrigued glint. Her casual pose belied the keen interest in her voice.

"I did invite him as well, and Aiden too, but they already had plans with their family this weekend," Maya sighed, her cheerful demeanour briefly shadowed by a tinge of disappointment.

"When are you two just going to tell people what is obvious to everyone with eyes?" Kamala teased, provoking a giggle from Sora. "You're both unbelievably lovey-dovey, but you won't even admit that you're dating."

"Technically, we're not." Maya grinned, unfazed as her two best friends rolled their eyes. "We're not! We haven't even been on an actual date yet, so therefore we aren't technically dating."

"Uh-huh, and how long before you do go on an 'Actual Date'?" Kamala asked, her voice laced with mock scepticism, her fingers forming air quotes as she spoke.

"We've been talking about it, I just need to get Babbo, and probably my dad to agree." Maya's voice carried a hopeful note, though she seemed prepared for the challenge ahead.

Sora and Kamala exchanged knowing glances their shared amusement evident. They turned back to Maya, their grins wide and synchronous.

"Good luck!" They both chirped simultaneously, their laughter mingling with the sounds that floated in from outside.

Maya rolled her eyes, a playful smirk softening the gesture as she glanced at her two best friends, both still giggling. The sunlight danced across her features, highlighting the mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Thanks." she quipped, her voice rich with sarcasm yet affectionate. She pushed herself up from the cozy beanbag on the floor, stretching briefly as she stood. "Come on, I promised Babbo we'd at least make a start on our homework this afternoon."


In the bright, sunlit living room of the Salvatore House, the atmosphere was charged with tension despite the cheerful light streaming through the open windows. Damon paced restlessly across the well-worn wooden floor, his movements sharp and agitated, creating a stark contrast with the peaceful scene outside where birds chirped, and leaves rustled gently in the breeze. Klaus, reclining with an air of nonchalance on the plush couch, regarded Damon with a mixture of amusement and detachment, his calm demeanour all the more striking amid the turmoil. Nearby, Kol leaned against the mantelpiece, his expression a mixture of concern and interest, his eyes occasionally drifting towards the serene garden.

The distant laughter of the three girls upstairs in Maya's room drifted down, oddly discordant with the serious tones of their conversation.

"You need to calm down," Klaus suggested smoothly, his voice a tranquil contrast to the sunny afternoon outside.

Damon halted abruptly, turning to face Klaus, his hands animated with frustration.

"You need to be less calm," he countered sharply, his eyes alight with irritation. Klaus merely raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, which only aggravated Damon further. "Your whole thing is flying off the handle at the slightest provocation—"

"I do not!" Klaus interjected, his tone crisp, slicing through the warm air.

"— so, this whole calm acceptance thing you've got going on is not only a wildly inappropriate reaction to your mother returning from the dead. But also, incredibly unnerving. Why are you not freaking out about this?" Damon demanded, his voice escalating with each word. "I mean seriously! Am I the only one who finds it just a little bit suspicious that the spirits have been trying to contact Maya, Bonnie, and Sheila in their dreams, with zero luck, and now, suddenly, boom—your mother is resurrected? That can't just be a coincidence."

"You're right. It's definitely suspicious," Klaus conceded, his voice finally betraying a hint of concern as he set aside a magazine he'd been flipping through absent-mindedly.

"We both agree with you, mate," Kol chimed in from his position by the fireplace. "Elijah thinks so too."

"Then why are we sitting around letting her organize a ball instead of getting to the bottom of this?" Damon's tone was a mix of frustration and disbelief.

"Elijah's idea," they both responded simultaneously, their voices carrying lightly in the bright room, forcing Damon to reconsider their strategy amid the deceptive tranquillity of the afternoon.

"What?"

"Elijah thinks that it's better to play along and do what mother wants, than to confront her directly." Kol explained, "her showing up is suspicious, but she is still our mother and until we have proof that she's up to something, neither Rebekah nor Finn are going to listen to anything we have to say. Not after –" he fell silent, shooting a sideways glance at Klaus.

"Not after what?" Damon asked suspiciously.

"Finn and Rebekah have always been of the belief that Mikael, killed our mother after he found out she betrayed him with my father." Klaus answered after an awkward silence, where both Mikaelsons had avoided Damon's gaze.

"I guess that's not the true story."

"No, it's not."

"I killed mother." Klaus admitted, still avoiding his gaze. "It was after she bound my wolf, I felt angry and betrayed, and I lost my temper. I didn't even realise what I'd done until it was over."

As the revelation hung heavily in the air, the room seemed to contract, the walls closing in with the weight of Klaus's confession. Sunlight continued to stream through the windows, casting long, haunting shadows across the floor that seemed to darken the mood further. Klaus sat motionless, his eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet, evading Damon's intense gaze. The typically unshakeable Original looked visibly shaken, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ghosts of his past actions.

Damon stood still for a moment, processing the gravity of Klaus's words. His reaction was unexpectedly calm, almost contemplative, as he absorbed the full impact of the betrayal and anger that must have coursed through Klaus at that moment of fury. The room was silent except for the soft ticking of an old clock on the mantle and the distant laughter of the children, a stark reminder of the normalcy that now belonged in their supernatural lives.

Kol, leaning more heavily against the mantelpiece now, looked between the two, his expression one of resignation. He knew the fragile alliances within their family could shatter with just a few wrong words. His gaze shifted nervously from Klaus to Damon, sensing the shift in dynamics with every second that passed.

"Okay," Damon finally replied, his voice low and steady, cutting through the tension. He looked squarely at Klaus, pointing a finger at him as he pieced together the family puzzle. "So, Finn and Rebekah found out last night, and they're angry with you, so if you confront them about your suspicions, they won't accept them. And I'm going to assume that you," he continued, turning, and pointing directly at Kol, "and Elijah already knew, which they must have also realized, so you're basically also not going to persuade them to listen to you."

"Pretty much," Kol admitted with a nod.

As Kol's response hung in the air, a brief nod of resignation, Klaus's frustration bubbled to the surface. His eyes, usually cool and detached, now bore into Damon with a fiery intensity.

"That's it?" he demanded, his voice rising, a mix of incredulity and anger. "I confess to killing my own mother—the gravest sin of my existence—and all you say is okay and move on?"

Damon remained unnervingly calm his response simple yet profound.

"Yes."

Klaus, visibly shaken, leaned forward, his voice strained with emotion.

"Why? Why aren't you as repulsed by me as Rebekah and Finn are? Why aren't you grabbing Maya and fleeing from here before I can harm either of you?"

Damon's reply came with a steady, measured tone, reflecting a depth of understanding forged from his own dark experiences.

"It was my understanding that your wolf was bound very shortly after you became a vampire," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Less than a week," Kol interjected, confirming the timeline with a nod.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Klaus snapped, frustration lacing his words.

Damon took a step closer, his gaze never leaving Klaus's.

"I remember what it was like when I was first turned," he began, his voice soft yet carrying a weight that filled the room. "Everything was heightened. And from what Mason's said, it's even worse for a hybrid. You were the first of your kind, Klaus. You had no one to guide you, to teach you control. You'd just discovered you'd been lied to your entire life, and then, your own mother locks away a part of you. Of course, you felt betrayed and angry. Who wouldn't? You acted out of blind rage at a point when every single one of your emotions was spiralling out of control."

Damon paused, his expression softening.

"What happened was regrettable, a tragic moment that you've carried with you for over a thousand years. But it was just a mistake—a devastating one, yes, but still a mistake. I won't judge you for that. You aren't the only one who did things they later regretted when they were newly turned and had no one to show them the ropes."

The room fell silent, the gravity of Damon's words settling like dust. Outside, the afternoon sun continued to bathe the room in light, casting shadows that seemed to underscore the solemnity of the moment. Klaus's expression softened, the anger dissipating as understanding began to dawn, reflecting a mixture of relief and newfound respect between the two of them.

"Okay," he said, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a thick fog. "I understand Elijah's plan, but I need you to promise me something—none of the girls will be placed in any danger tonight. Not just Maya, but Sora and Kamala as well."

Kol straightened up, a sense of duty flashing across his features.

"I will be keeping an eye on all three of them," he assured Damon with a firm nod. "That's my job tonight, and I swear if anything happens, I will get all of them out immediately." His voice carried the weight of his promise, reassuring yet edged with the gravity of the potential risks.

"Aradia wasn't able to attend," Kol continued, his tone turning slightly regretful, "but she's provided me with a portkey." He pulled a small, shimmering object from his pocket, holding it up for Damon to see. The portkey glinted in the sunlight filtering through the windows, its surface swirling with a mystical light. "This will take myself and all three of the girls to the academy if it becomes necessary."

The air around them seemed charged with a silent acknowledgment of the dangers they faced and the measures they were prepared to take. Damon looked at the portkey, a mix of appreciation and worry in his eyes. The assurance that there was a safe exit plan in place provided some comfort, but the stakes of the evening ahead remained high. The commitment to protect their loved ones was palpable, binding the three of them in their resolve as the light of the late afternoon bathed the room in hues of gold and amber, casting long shadows that spoke of the evening's looming challenges.


As Esther gracefully descended the grand staircase, the Mikaelson siblings, despite the recent family strife, rallied around Elijah to present a united front. The ornate ballroom hummed with a subtle tension; the air thick with anticipation as the guests' chatter quieted at the sight of the formidable family aligning themselves along the balustrade. Elijah, ever the composed leader, signalled the musicians into silence with a discreet gesture, his voice carrying smoothly across the vast room.

"Uh, if everyone could gather, please," he began, his voice resonating with calm authority. As the room's attention focused on the staircase, he continued, "Welcome, thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

Elijah then gracefully descended the stairs, offering his arm to Liz who accepted with a warm smile. His eyes, however, remained vigilant, darting occasionally to his mother who had subtly made her way toward Maya and her friends. Klaus and Damon, meanwhile, opted out of dancing, choosing instead to maintain their watchful guard from a vantage point by the wall—a prudent choice, as Kol was swept into the dance by the Mayor and Jonas paired with Miranda, leaving Elena visibly irked at being left alone.

As the music swelled and couples began their elegant dance, Liz's voice drew Elijah's focus.

"Should I be worried about anything?" she asked softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. "You keep checking in on everyone else."

"I have some concerns," Elijah confessed, maintaining a polite smile as they moved through the steps of the dance. "But I do not think anything will happen tonight."

"That's good, but if you need any help I can provide, you only need to ask," Liz offered, her tone sincere.

"I will keep that in mind, thank you," Elijah replied, appreciating her support.

When the dance came to an end, he allowed himself to be drawn into conversation with Carol and Jonas, whilst still keeping an eye on everyone else. Which was when it happened, not the calamity that he had feared, but a small disturbance. A loud shriek drew his, and everyone else's eyes, in the direction of Elena, who was standing with a clearly upset Caroline, an annoyed Bonnie, and not too far behind them an angry Maya.

Elena had been the one to shriek, somehow having spilt a drink down her front. Elijah could tell by the glint in Maya's eyes and the hidden laughter of her two friends that she must have been the one to cause it. Excusing himself he headed towards Elena, as did Esther.

"Miss Gilbert, is it?" she inquired, her voice smooth as she offered Elena a graceful escape from the awkward situation. "Come with me, I'll take you somewhere you can clean up and have a minute to compose yourself."

As Elena nodded and followed Esther, Elijah caught the low, firm instruction from his mother.

"Deal with this please, I do not wish any more upsets this evening."

He would much rather keep her away from the doppelganger, not trusting her motives. Since he could always ask Elena afterwards, and his mother would dislike if he followed them rather than doing as instructed, he headed towards Maya. She had been joined by Kol, who seemed to be having a hard time not laughing, Klaus, who was maintaining a serious face but had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Damon who was lecturing Maya quietly whilst she pouted, though he too seemed more amused than angry.

"What happened?" he questioned quietly.

"Elena said something that upset Caroline," Kol replied just as quietly, "Maya made her spill her drink down her dress."

"Mother is annoyed, she doesn't wish anything else to cause a stir this evening."

"The toast will be soon, once that's done, we can use the late hour to persuade mother to let one of us take the girls home."

With a plan in place, Elijah excused himself to patrol the perimeter of the ballroom, ensuring all was as it should be. When his mother and Elena returned from their seclusion, his curiosity peaked. He made a beeline for Elena, who seemed slightly unnerved by his sudden appearance.

"So, how was my mother?" he asked, handing her a glass of champagne from a tray a waiter was passing around in anticipation of the toast.

Elena accepted the glass, her response cautious.

"Intense," she said, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her nerves.

Elijah's gaze swept across the room, catching sight of Maya and her friends being escorted outside by Stefan and Caroline—a precaution that eased his immediate concerns. Turning back to Elena, he probed further.

"And what did you speak about while you were away?"

Elena shifted slightly, her eyes darting away before meeting his again.

"She just wanted to assure me that she won't allow any harm to come to me or my family from yours. That she wishes for us all to be able to live together peacefully here."

Her heart seemed to skip a beat with her words, a telltale sign that piqued Elijah's suspicions. But before he could delve deeper, Esther's voice rang out, capturing the room's attention.

"Good evening, ladies and Gentlemen," Esther announced grandly from her place on the stairs. Her voice was regal, filled with the poise of centuries. "Waiters are coming around with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass. It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one. I'd like to thank you all for being part of this spectacular evening. Cheers!"

As the room echoed with the chorus of "Cheers," Elijah offered his glass to Elena. Their glasses clinked, a symbolic gesture of peace amid the undercurrents of tension. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening," he said smoothly, his voice a blend of charm and subtle vigilance. As the crowd dispersed to continue their celebrations, Elijah remained alert, his senses tuned to any further disruptions, ready to protect the precarious balance of peace and family loyalty under the grand chandeliers of the Mikaelson ballroom.


Finn's senses sluggishly clawed back into focus, emerging from the depths of unconsciousness. He was greeted by an eerie symphony of distant, echoing voices that infiltrated his foggy mind like unwelcome guests. His head pounded mercilessly—a savage, throbbing agony reminiscent of his long-forgotten human days.

"Are they linked?" The voice cut through the dimness, sharp and tinged with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"Yes." The reply, flat and devoid of emotion, sent a shiver down Finn's spine. Despite the numbness clouding his thoughts, he recognized the voice—it belonged to his mother.

Frozen, Finn lay still, letting the flow of voices wash over him. Each word sliced through the haze of pain, piecing together a sinister plot. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as the conversation took a chilling turn.

"Good. Then tomorrow night, we can proceed with the plan. The Originals will die, and with them, the vampire race will crumble."

A bitter twist of realization struck Finn. Klaus, Elijah, Kol—they had been right all along. Their distrust and suspicions about Mother's true intentions had been justified. A pang of guilt gnawed at him; he should have listened to his brothers' warnings, should have seen past the facade of maternal benevolence she had shown towards Niklaus.

Now, amid the shadows of betrayal, Finn understood the gravity of their predicament. The stakes were higher than ever, and he knew he had to act. The future of their lineage, of all vampires, hinged on what he chose to do next.