Driven by the impeding meeting with his father, Klaus Mikaelson has undaggered all of his siblings and surounded himself with their protection. For no matter how many quarrels and fights they'd get into, the originals stayed true to their vow, always and forever.
As a consequence, Mystic Falls was now infested with not one, not three, but five original vampires. And Celia's friends were fuming, barely containing their impatience until Bonnie finds a way to awaken Mikael.
With Rebekah back in school, Elijah, Klaus and Kol bonding once again over the threat of their father and Finn trying to put behind the bitter nine centuries sleep and redefine the modern world in his mind, the Mikaelsons showed a united front. Nothing stopped Klaus from turning more hybrids, Mikael's soon arrival making his mission more urgent. But nothing could stop him from making up the time he wasted without his little brother's presence either.
Kol may have had a hard time forgiving Klaus again. It only got harder every time to let the hybrid off the hook for daggering him. But such was their fate, siblings who roam the earth since world's beginning are not meant to strip apart.
Therefore, the sight at the Grill that night, the night Bonnie Bennet found a way to resurrect Mikael from his sleep and Damon, Stefan, Caroline and Elena went to guard her at his coffin, should have been no surprise for anyone. Klaus and Kol were drinking together when Celia walked inside, fidgeting with her silver bracelet.
The siphoner worried her lips with her teeth, grazing, biting, pulling at them in a chaotic alternance. Her phone, muted and running out of battery, buzzed with Jeremy's texts.
Are you alright?
Have you gotten in already?
Is he there?
Since Klaus Mikaelson showed such a special interest in her at the 20's decade dance at school, her sister's group decided to sent her as a distraction. To make sure the original hybrid is oblivious to their schem tonight and will be taken by surprise by the reunion with his father.
Jeremy and Tyler were the only ones privy to the plan who were cast aside on the bench. Tyler still playing the spy as a dutifull sired hybrid and Jeremy simply being told it's too dangerous by his oldest sister.
Celia wandered briefly if Caroline knew about her part in all this, or if she has given up trying to defend her little sister when everything that trully mattered were Elena's wishes and Elena's safety. She couldn't blame her if that was the case.
With a swift motion Celia closed her phone and took a few steps inside the Grill, walking aimlessly, feigning searching for someone until Klaus observed her.
"Hello, love."
At the sound of the now familiar greeting, the sight of the characteristic smirk on his face, Celia had to fight hard against a smile. One she chastied herself for, one that took her by surprise and raised questions she didn't want to answer inside herself.
"Klaus. Making friends, I see. Another poor wolf who has no choice in the matter?"
At her taunting, Klaus' smirk spread into a grin. He chuckled, one eyebrow raised as he stole a glance to his companion. Kol's eyes widen in surprise – had anyone spoken to his brother like that in the past, should have been dead already. Hell, if he talked with Klaus like that in a bad mood, he'd be daggered! – and turned to regard the human girl with newly found interest.
Kol let his gaze slide up and down Celia, taking in everything that might make her special. Perhaps it was the courage to speak with an original like that, or those kind eyes crafted with secret pains and intelligence. Perhaps it was the style that stood her out as an artist herself. But none spoke trully to Kol until he saw the thin thread at her wrist.
Long time ago, before vampires and hybrids, before originals and ash oak daggers, Kol Mikaelson has been a warlock. Like all Esther's children magic surged his veins. But young Kol has been the only one to seek to master it. Empower it. Grow it.
After his transformation and loss of powers, the original youngest spent his time wisely searching the deep mysteries of the witchy world. He surrounded himself by covens, lone witches or warlocks. Sought knowledge in grimoires and artifacts. Soothing the ache of not being able to practice.
Kol could practically smell the magic infused in that bracelet. And he recognized the craft the charm was made of, tracing it back to the only coven he never met. The one almost everyone he has spoken to could swear it was a story, a fairytale, a legend. A presence only books and bonfire tales could attest of.
And suddenly, his own interest was piqued.
"Charming, as always, little witch." Klaus spoke, raising the glass of scotch to his mouth and sending a meaningful look Kol's way.
Celia's hair raised on her arms and at the back of her neck as her blood chilled to ice. Before she could say a word, Klaus spoke again.
"Relax, Celia, dear. My brother here is an esquiviste connoisseur of magical arts. He must have already figured you out. Am I right, Kol?"
The man in question only dipped his chin and smiled as if to bow. If she wouldn't know any better, Celia might think it was a bashfull gesture. But soon, Kol raised his sharp gaze to pin her.
"The almighty Coven of Hell," he mused. "You don't look the part, but if you are anything like the witches I've heard so much about and could never find, it would explain my brother's interest in you."
Celia rolled her eyes to stop herself from blushing. Of anger or something elae she wouldn't admit, it wasn't clear even to herself. Was Klaus really that drawn to her? And was it just because of her blood written herritage? The young siphoner didn't want the thought to bother her as much as she did. After all, Klaus Mikaelson was the original hybrid, a blood thirsty killer with no morals or remorse. Of course a witch of her backround would only matter to him for her history and power only.
But his next words yet again shattered the vile image Celia so struggled to mantain of him. "The Coven of Hell, hm?" Klaus tried to brush it off, play it cool. But Kol knowing even a drop of information more about his little witch than he did upset him more than he'd like to admit.
"I'm hurt, Little Witch. It seems I always have to rely on others to learn anything about you."
"You never asked." Celia shrugged.
"I beg to differ."
"Threatening to make my bracelet lost if I don't share stuff with you isn't asking, Klaus."
Kol muffled a chuckle, feigning chocking on his drink when his older brother shot him an annoyed look. Klaus snorted dissmisively and returned his attention back to Celia.
"Then perhaps I could take advantage of this moment and ask."
"I can still chose not to answer," Celia smiled sweetly and set down at the bar next to Kol. The youngest original caught his brother eavesdropping the witch's order and almost splashed his last gulp of scotch in amusement.
"You're whipped, brother," he whispered, only for Klaus' ears. The hybrid only ignored him, much to Kol's delight, who was having a fit from the scene upfolding in his presence.
"So, Celia, is it?" He asked before his brother could chase the witch away. "Do tell how a mighty witch such as yourself got lost in a small, provincial town."
"I could ask you the same, oh, big, scary, originals."
She took a sip from her drink – a Mai Tai as Klaus managed to learn – and fixed the brothers with her dark brown stare.
Klaus smiled as Kol's own thined. Maybe his brother fancied her enough to allow such blatant disrespect, but Kol has looked for the Coven of Hell most of his vampire life... when he wasn't stuffed in a crammed coffin with a dagger through his chest. Having one of them in front of him and not being able to receive the long awaited answers infuriated him.
Sensing his little sibling's change of mood, Klaus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should change the subject. For now," he added. Both as a reassurence to Kol and a promise to himself and Celia.
"Why are you so nice to me?" The siphoner errupted frustrated all of a sudden. She hasn't been exactly trying to get on the original's bad side, she has only acted as herself, avoiding uncomfortable questions with sacrasm and irony. But Celia knew the only Mikaelson with a managable temper is Elijah. She felt Kol's anger growing, seething as she avoided to talk about the subject he was too interested in for her liking. It helped keep the aparances up: a sick family of evil-doers. But Klaus just refused to bent to that title when it came to her. And that confused Celia and mixed her already messy feelings even more.
"Because I fancy you, Celia. Is that so hard to believe?" Klaus' confession shocked both the siphoner and the younger original. Kol had his fair share of lovers through his long life and he knew for a fact that so did Klaus. But he never understood how his grumpy brother managed to catch a lady's eyes with that big, ugly hatred of his that spills out as soon as he opens his mouth. The new side he saw of his older sibling made Kol forget all about the futile attempts to satisfy his thrist of magical knowledge from earlier. And the younger original settled to watch the idyll unfolding under his lucky eyes.
"That's it? You just like me? But you barely know me..."
"It would be my pleasure to, with your permission. But even as it is, it is not hard to see you're beautiful, full of light and wittiness. You carry with such grace a burden I think I might understand, but won't pretend I know its weight. You cannot see it, but your eyes hide stars inside, the whole nightsky, when you laugh, giddy with genuine glee. Lovely, lively Celia, you are one exquiste being that's so rare in every era of this world that finding you was a gift I refuse to let pass by me."
Klaus' words demanded silence to settle over the three supernatural beings at the bar. The hybrid awaiting his answer, searching Celia's changing face for clues; the siphoner trying to make sense of what she just heard, sorting through thoughts and feelings, attempting to use logic, but finding it too hard when her heart felt like a butterlfy ready to take flight; and Kol shifting from amazement to amusement and settling on an impressed and proud smirk. His brother must trully like this little witch, a good choice, giving her power and legacy. Orherwise it must mean his brother's flirting was better than his own – something Kol couldn't admit – and Klaus was more idiotic and reckless than he remembered, toying with a Coven of Hell's witch's feelings like that.
"Wow," Celia breathed out more air than she remember inhaling. She blinked rapidily, chaotically, fighting words through a dazzled mind. "I did not expect that."
Klaus let out a soft laugh, so unexpected on the original hybrid's lips. Looking directly into her eyes, blue meeting brown for the first time since they've met, the blonde man smiled sweetly, genuninely. An invitation towards truth. Yet the cockyness never left his speech. "Maybe you lack some knowledge of me too. Come on, get to know me. I dare you."
Celia has been too stunned to answer the original, but his last line played never-endingly inside her mind, like a song stuck on repeat after she heard it once and liked it. She has left the Grill in a rush, not even remembering the poor excuse she shouted over her shoulder at the two originals.
Screw the plan, she thought. Their father chasing them again would deffinitely be a surprise, no matter her distraction. She just couldn't be next to him any longer. It made her heart race too fast, painfully so, hitting her ribcage, devastating her soul. It watered her palms with cold sweat and stinged her eyes with confused tears. Worst of all, it warmed her insides, where dozens over dozens of airy wings tickled her.
And Celia hated it. Hated herself for not fighting it hard enough, for not wanting to. For enjoying it. She hated herself for the strength with which her whole being responded to Klaus Mikaelson, be it in jest and anger, friendly banter and teasing or more.
It shouldn't be anything more! Celia screamed at herself. She still has a boyfriend. Whose sister the blonde man who came closer to breaking her walls than Jeremy has ever been, tried to kill. Whose aunt he actually did kill. Who was waiting her furiously at his house, typing nervously what must be the hundreth text message in the last forty minutes.
Celia couldn't believe only fourty minutes passed. If she would've been told it was a lifetime, she would believe it.
"Oh my God, Celia!" Jeremy ran to scoop her up in his arms as soon as his eyes landed on her. "You're fine. You are, right?" He looked her over with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's all good." It didn't convince Jeremy.
"What happened? Did he try to hurt you? Does he know about Mikael, then? That bastard son of a..."
"No, Jeremy. Slow down. Klaus didn't touch me, didn't even threaten me. He was..." what? Charming, dashing, dainty, endearing? All things Celia couldn't say out loud.
"...a gentleman." The siphoner settled. "And he doesn't know about Mikael. He is drinking with his brother, I doubt he's expecting us to attack now. So I left. Missed my boyfriend," Celia added in a rush, hoping that would make Jeremy drop the subject.
And it worked. The young Gilbert's face softened, wrinkles disappearing from his forehead as all trace of worry vanished and he looked lovingly at his girlfriend, a couple of inches shorter than him.
"I missed you too, babe. I was worried sick, I don't know why they kept insisiting to sent you over that sadistic."
"It's fine," Celia shrugged, stretching a weak smile on her lips. "I understand. Klaus seems fond on me for some reason."
"It was unneeded, though," Jeremy retort, the longing in Celia's voice at the memory of the hybrid flying right past him. "I won't ever let them set you up for some stupid distraction mission again."
Unconvinced, yet too tired to argue, the siphoner nodded. She walked with Jeremy inside the Gilbert residence, cuddling on the couch in front of a bad horror movie, waiting for the gang to come back.
Which they did, half past three in the night. The young pair still tangled on the couch, movie long since forgotten, woke with a start at the loud thud of a door being angrily shut.
"Damon, calm down." It was Elena's voice the one who tried, hope to keep the oldest Salvatore in check not yet crushed.
"Rough night?" Jeremy asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
"What time is it?" Celia's groggy voice was ignored when the group slumped down in the living room next to the duo.
"Everything went wrong and now we have a rough Mikaelson on the run. Fucking perfect!" Damon continued his tirade, shoving past Bonnie. "I need a drink."
As he went to fix himself one, Caroline sat down on the couch's arm rest next to her sister. Everyone was sitting by now, Stefan and Elena wraped against each other on an armchair, Bonnie sprawled cross-legged in the other one.
"Shut up, Damon. You should be grateful you're alive. Which wouldn't be the case if not for Bonnie. We all owe it to her."
Now fully awake, Celia put the pieces together in the odd picture, guessing Damon must have lashed out at Bonnie for she was the one performing the magic.
"Sorry, blondie. You're right. I'm so grateful our plan blew up and we got even more troubles on our hands. Cheers!"
"We all knew this might go wrong and we all agreed to the risks. Now act more like a hundred years old vampire and less like a toddler throwing a tantrum and pull yourself together. We need to find a way to fix this." Stefan, much to everyone's surprise, bit back at his brother. Usually, the younger brother was patient, calm. Quiet in his moodiness filled with secrets and ever forming thoughts, but still a peacekeeper. It seemed the recent Reaper experience left its mark on him.
Silence fell heavy on the seven teens. Eventually, Jeremy broke it. "What is the big problem anyway? You freed the hunter, he took off to hunt. Wasn't it what we wanted?"
"We wanted a controlled enviorment," Bonnie sighed.
"His targets are his kids. Klaus especially, right? Why are we so worried?"
"Because he is not a Mikaelson. He is Mikael. The man who made them. There was a quote somewhere about not fearing the monsters, but their creators," Celia whispered absently, lost in a storm of sped up thougts. "There will be casualties. Victims that have nothing to do with Klaus or his siblings."
"We need to find him, Jer," Bonnie said, nodding along Celia's trail of thought. "We need to stop him before anything bad happens. If it didn't already."
On that happy note, the group took off, each to their homes, each promising to rest to regain their strengths and seek a solution to their problem. "If we split up we can cover more ground," Care have said. And all agreed, some opting to roam the town's streets, the woods and some nearby towns looking for Mikael, some opting to research the deep web and dusty library for ways to put him back to sleep. Or better yet, kill him for good.
But Celia didn't do as she promised right away. As Caroline tossed in her bed and Liz snorted peacefully in her room, the young witch made her way to the huge mansion on top of the hill, where the original siblings moved.
Her head spiraled with unrest since Care, Bonnie, Stefan, Elena and Damon returned. Guilt was gnawking at her guts and she had given up trying to split apart the thoughts piercing through her subconsciousness like fast arrow tips. The witch allowed her feelings to engulf her, too tired to sort through whatever ideas spurned the hurt, the pain and the fear – or was it worry fear and pain that spurned the hurricane of thoughts?
Celia didn't know and quite frankly couldn't care less. She felt like a traitor, sneaking up behind her friends' back, behind her sister's worse of all. In all truth, she was a traitor, Celia realized, as her shoes splashed a little puddle at the gate of the Mikaelson residence.
But it was too late now to feel bad about herself and back down. She doesn't regret her choice, so it must mean something. Something other than a lack of loialty and morality, she hoped.
The witch twirled the silver at her wrist anxiously, deciding if she should shout – the fine vampire hearing would certainly wake the house up – siphon the magic imbued in the house's border and let herself in or jump the fence and knock at the door.
Thankfully, she had to do none. "Hello, little witch," Klaus sped in front of her, unlocking the gate separating them and letting her inside. But Celia remained in her place.
"Challenge accepted, mister Mikaelson." Was the first thing that came to her mind at the sound of the silly nickname the hybrid insisted on. Words she doesn't even remember thinking, but were truer than she expected as they left her mouth.
A confused look spaced over Klaus' face, but his smile never weavered, always tugging at his lips in Celia's presence.
"Your dare, to get to know you," she explained. It was so much easier to talk about their earlier meeting, seeing the blonde man's face lit up rather than darken with the knowledge of his father's freedom. Because faced with the task of shattering Klaus' world she didn't want to see it through anymore. He's been through more than anyone should ever have to face and she wanted to sooth his soul for a change. Even if it'd be short lived.
She'll have enough time to break the news of Mikael to his poor son in the morning, Celia decided. For now, she'll part with the vampire with the knowledge he'll sleep tightly, spared of the nightmares that must come with his father's presence. "Callenge accepted."