{1.10 | There's a World Where Your Dreams Come True | part 1}
[a.n sorry guys. I changed my mind about the group uploading. It'll take longer for me to get each episode out. No idea what I was thinking.
Apologies for the inconvenience!]
"You sure it glowed again?" Hope asked, sitting across from Alaric's desk. Elara wasn't sure exactly what she was doing with the knife and crossbow bolt, but she watched nonetheless.
She sat on the edge of Alaric's desk, tapping her ring against the wood. Things between her and Hope were decent, all be it a little awkward. Hope still hadn't told Elara of their conversation in the motel, nor about her conversation with Alaric in the car. There were some things she was better off not knowing.
Alaric lifted his crossbow, examining it. "I sleep with the damn thing under my pillow. It's hard to miss."
"Well, I guess that would make sense for you to see it," Elara said. "It's like a demented lightbulb."
"What do you think it's going to be this time? Hmm? Cyclops? Slender man?" Hope questioned.
"Santa?" Elara quipped. Hope glanced at her with a smile playing on her lips. She enjoyed whenever they could bounce ideas off of each other.
Alaric chuckled. "Well, given our luck, I think it's safe to rule out Ol' Saint Nick."
"I don't know," Hope chimed in, placing the freshly shaven bolt on the desk. "Santa Claus is kind of terrifying when you think about it. Breaks into your home. He sees you when you're sleeping. Not to mention, judge-y."
Elara gestured towards Hope. "She makes a very fair point. I'd hate to face a man who has a Naughty or Nice List."
"Both of you, focus," Alaric said, placing his crossbow on his desk.
"We're trying," Hope replied. "I just wish that Satan's nightlight would give us some rest."
"Yeah, and I wish that knife was never in our school to begin with, but it's not like we can change that now. All we can do is make sure we're not blindsided by another monster waltzing through our doors."
Elara hopped off of the desk, moving to place her hands on the back of Hope's chair. She didn't notice the hitch in the tri-brid's breathing. "Well, I can't really be surprised. Weird, ringing, danger sense thing-y in my head, remember?"
"And have you heard it recently?" Hope questioned, looking up at Elara.
Had she always been that tall?
"Yup, right before Alaric called for us to come to his office."
Right after she finished speaking, the doors to the office opened. Elara turned her head, not sure what to expect, but a grin hit her lips.
Josie and Lizzie Saltzman walked into the room, rolling their suitcases with them. They were finally back from Europe, and Elara was happy to see them.
Well, Josie. She was happy to see Josie.
"Too late," Hope mumbled, shifting in her seat.
Alaric's eyes widened. "Oh, God."
Hope rose from her seat as Alaric walked around his desk cautiously, as if approaching a dangerous animal.
Elara raised her hand in a wave. "Hey, Jo."
Josie returned the wave, smiling. She missed Elara, but, truthfully, she was curious as to when Elara and Hope had gotten so... close.
"Uh, girls," Alaric started, speaking carefully. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to get in until tonight."
Lizzie answered, her voice tight, "Mom was able to get us direct into Dulles. Then faxed, texted, and e-mailed you our revised itinerary."
"I'm so sorry. It-it's chaos around here," Alaric apologized quickly.
Lizzie leaned forward, opening her mouth to possibly say something snarky, but Josie cut her off.
"It's okay, Dad," she reassured. Her smile widened if it was even possible. Elara listened to Josie speak, but her eyes drifted towards the other chair in front of the headmaster's desk. Her ears weren't ringing, but she noticed a subtle shift in the space, a shimmer of blue. "We know that you're overwhelmed. But Europe was amazing. And seeing Mom was really good."
Weird.
"Jo's covered the bright side," Lizzie chimed in. "Far less sunny was waiting for you in the chilly dark of morning at the terminal and you not showing up." She dropped her purse to the floor.
Hope crossed her arms. "In his defense, um, we've been in crisis mode around here."
It didn't sway Lizzie. "Oh, we've heard all about it. Hope got bamboozled by one of the monsters and now only two keys separate the entire supernatural community from being consumed by a hell portal."
"On the bright side," Elara interjected, clasping her hands together. She caught Josie's eyes and noticed the sympathetic look on her face. She had heard about her father's appearance. "We've managed to fend off the latest monsters from taking the artifact."
"I'm guessing that weird little vase is one of them?" Lizzie asked, gesturing to the urn on the desk.
Hope rolled her eyes. "It's an urn, actually."
"I don't care what it is," Lizzie snarked, mocking Hope by dropping her voice and adding a weird sound to it. "I care that instead of being welcomed at the airport, we were forced to take a three-hour shuttle ride that smelled like an open sewer. And feet."
Elara scrunched her nose in disgust.
"Thanks a lot, Hope, and you too, Elara. Don't play innocent." Lizzie shook her head. "Way to ruin life for the rest of us." She spun on her heels and marched out of the office.
Elara sighed. She definitely didn't miss having Lizzie around.
~-~-~
WISH NUMBER ONE
"I WISH HOPE HAD NEVER COME TO THIS SCHOOL."
As carefully as she could, Elara weaved her way through the busy streets of the Quarter. New Orleans hadn't been her first choice of places to go, but Cedric had made it clear.
She had to find the tri-brid.
And she didn't know that until a few days prior. For years, she bounced around from foster home to foster home, until a tragic accident took the life of someone she loved dearly. She triggered a curse she didn't know she possessed, and she endured the pain of the transformation all alone.
So, she kept running.
And running.
Until she ended up in New Orleans. One thing led to another, and she learned about the Originals, about werewolves and witches, and other creatures that went bump in the night.
Then, something happened, and Elara triggered a second part to her curse.
She stopped in front of the entrance of a bar, pulling down her hood. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she really needed to get it cut. The length was bothering her.
It looked normal from the outside, a sleazy dive bar just off the main road of the Quarter. The smell hit her first. The piercing scent of blood and the subtle hint of booze. Humans wouldn't have noticed it, but she wasn't human.
She used her shoulder to open the door, carefully eyeing the area. The ringing in her head was faint, but she knew it could become unbearable any second. Bodies lined the wooden floor of the bar as blood seeped into it. There was a trumpet still playing nearby.
"Honestly," Elara said loudly, glancing around for any sign of the tri-brid. Her voice pierced the air. It was low, raspy, and contained a hint of a southern drawl. "You couldn't have been less obvious about where you were, Mikaelson."
"I wasn't trying to hide."
She turned her head towards the sound, and she couldn't help but pause as she took in the sight before her.
A girl not much older than her stood behind the bar, spinning a bottle on the surface. Her auburn-hair was pulled up into a ponytail. The black shirt she wore only complimented the color of her eyes, which bore into Elara as if examining her, looking her up and down.
Hope Mikaelson-- the legendary tri-brid-- was a lot prettier than Elara had imagined, and shorter.
"Well," Elara continued. She walked towards the bar, stepping over a corpse missing its head. "Certainly could've used a bit more finesse."
The tri-brid tilted her head, looking at her curiously. The blond was suspicious, of course, but she held a strong allure. The way she moved, the way she spoke. It drew Hope in with each passing second.
"Have we met before?"
"Not in this life," Elara answered cooly. "But perhaps in another. Does the name Elara Laurent ring a bell?" At that, Hope narrowed her eyes. "As you know, the Laurents and the Mikaelsons didn't quite get along. Although it is surprising, I must say, seeing as we've similar legacies."
She huffed, picking up the bottle and holding it firmly. "What do you want? Speak quickly and plainly or I'll rip your head off."
Elara's grin remained steady. Elara wasn't afraid of the tri-brid. She was faster, stronger, and definitely smarter when it came to a fight. It would've been impossible for her to win.
"Oh, you wouldn't get the chance to, darling." Elara stopped in front of the bar, placing a hand on top of it. She wore a thin, silver ring on her middle finger. "You've lost the fight before it's even begun."
"No, I've lost my patience."
Hope swung the bottle at Elara, but it missed as the blond side-stepped it. Her hand shot out, grabbing Hope's wrist, and she yanked the tri-brid over the counter. Her touch practically burned.
Hope tumbled, rolling to land on her feet. She whirled towards Elara, baring her fangs, and Elara looked the same as before, a smug grin on her lips.
"Try again."
And she did. Hope swung at Elara again, this time with her fist, but she blocked it again, using her forearm to divert her swing. She swung again. She kicked, yet Elara deflected it each time. She wasn't fighting back, and it annoyed Hope.
Hope managed to aim her palm at Elara as she recited a spell. The blond was launched through the air, and she crashed through an interior wall. She let out a huff, turning to return to her slaughter.
"A valiant effort, but quite rude," she heard Elara say. Her head snapped to the side to see Elara climbing through the hole, covered in dust. She walked onto the stage. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself."
Hope was on her the second after, her hand grabbing her by the collar of her jacket. Their faces were inches apart, and Hope wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug grin off of Elara's face.
"You have five seconds before I rip your throat out." The threat came out weaker than she expected.
"If you wanted me dead, darling, you would've killed me the second I stepped through that door."
Hope had nothing to say to that.
"No, you want an explanation. Let me give it to you, my father knew your parents" Elara continued, her hand rising to wrap around Hope's wrist. Her touch was gentle. "And for whatever reason, my father never mentioned the Mikaelsons before he died." She looked up as if thinking. "Then again, they hated each other."
"Clock's ticking," Hope growled.
"I'm getting there. I came to New Orleans for answers, and I've been led to you. Now, I have no plans to kill you or even harm you. I simply want answers."
"So, you threatened me?"
"No, no," Elara clicked her tongue, shaking her head the best she could. "That wasn't a threat, just a factual statement. Really, you can't win in a fight against me. However, this is a threat."
To Hope's surprise, Elara's eyes shifted from blue to a burning orange color, and a blazing heat sprung from her hand. "If you do not release me, I will take you down, Mikaelson."
Hope dropped Elara, taking a step back and looking at her wrist. The fabric hadn't been burned, thankfully. Her eyes remained narrowed as she glared at the girl. "What the hell are you?"
Elara's grin faltered. "Now you're asking the right questions." She stood straight, brushing herself off. "You see, I believe we can help each other. My father, Cedric left behind several journals talking about his entirely too long life, and in the pages he mentioned your family and how we're connected. How they threatened his--"
She cleared her throat, a sad look passing through her eyes. "My duty."
Hope crossed her arms. Elara irked her in a way she couldn't explain. She wanted to treat her like every other problem she faced, with murder, but there was something about her that stopped her.
Elara took a step towards her, looking down at her. She couldn't help but notice the shift in Hope's demeanor, as if her body was trying to relax despite her brain's wishes.
"Although it may appear different, I hold nothing against you. Truly, I wish you no harm. It is my duty to protect the supernatural, but I can't do so with you ripping through the Quarter like it's a buffet. You risk exposing yourself. You risk getting yourself killed. You are one of the beings under my protection, and if you are to continue with this, I will have no choice but to step in, which is actually the last thing I want to."
The tri-brid looked up at Elara, her gaze softening ever so slightly. Elara raised her hand, carefully cupping Hope's jaw, and surprisingly, Hope didn't resist. Her thumb swiped across her chin, wiping away the blood.
"We are not so different, you and I," she said softly. Her smugness vanishing, revealing the vulnerability beneath. "I was having my fun before, but now I'm sincere. I only want to protect you, Hope, and not because of any obligations."
It was tempting. Hope opened her mouth to answer, but the jingling of the door caught their attention. Elara let go, creating space between them, and Hope suddenly forgot about her distaste for the protector and wished she hadn't moved.
"You've got to be kidding me," Elara heard a female voice complain.
"Who the hell are you?" Hope questioned, looking between the three newcomers.
Elara tilted her head curiously. The older man, who had a thick beard and a crossbow, looked familiar, and he seemed to feel the same towards Elara. His eyes widened as if he'd seen a ghost from the past. The other two, blond and brunette teenage girls, wore some kind of school uniform. They looked at the scene before them in disgust.
Truthfully, Elara hadn't thought much of it. She'd seen worse before.
"Uh-uh," the blond suddenly said, looking off to the side. "Time out, Genie."
Elara's grin quickly reappeared. Her confidence was one of her strongest powers, and she had been risky with showing Hope vulnerability. Showing it to complete strangers was not a good idea.
Then again, Hope had been a stranger before she stepped through the door, but she thought it was the best thing to do.
Her eyes quickly scanned the three of them. Only one was human, but the two girls weren't.
Hope stepped down from the stage. "My name is Hope, and you need to leave unless you want to be dessert."
The man blinked as a realization hit him. "Wait," he said softly, "Hope Mikaelson?" He glanced at Elara.
"Elara Laurent," she announced. "Pleasure."
"I knew your parents. Both of you," he explained. He looked towards Hope. "I know where all this darkness you're feeling comes from."
She listened, keeping a close eye on all of them. She didn't trust them. It would've been simple to take them down, but all witches made it more difficult. Her eyes skimmed over the brunette, who was looking at them sympathetically, then she glanced at the blond. She was looking at Elara as if she had two heads.
Elara cocked a brow, not as a challenge but as a question. There was a strange, blue shimmer around her.
"And you, Elara," he said, drawing her attention. "I was friends with your father before he died. I understand what you have to do, and you don't have to do it alone." He looked between the two. "If you just talk to me, I really think I could help."
Elara and Hope glanced at each other. Minutes before, neither of them would've looked for help, but after Elara's arrival, Hope's thoughts had been all over the place. She didn't know what to believe.
Elara shifted towards Hope, gauging the man's reaction, but he simply looked hopeful. She felt eyes on her. Hope's. The man's. The teenage girls'. They were waiting for her to answer.
If he was who he said he was, he could provide both of them with answers.
Slowly, she nodded her head.
When they arrived back to Mystic Falls, Elara finally let herself relax. Alaric Saltzman, as he had introduced, was a friend of her fathers who knew about his curse. Well, curses. He had the same goal-- to protect the supernatural.
Elara walked down to the pier, hands in her pockets. She had ditched her old clothes and changed into something more suitable for the weather. Lizzie and Josie walked either side of her.
"So, how'd you end up in New Orleans?" Josie asked, slipping her arm around Elara's
"I triggered my werewolf curse on accident about three months ago," Elara began to explain. "Ran away from home. Got in a terrible accident about two weeks ago, and when I finally recovered, I headed to New Orleans. I was born there, so I wanted to see if I could find anything about my family."
"You're weirdly open about that," Lizzie commented. Elara looked at her as if to ask a question, but Lizzie ignored her. "And you bumped into Hope?" Her tone was snappy, like she already held a grudge against the mentioned girl.
Elara shrugged. "I was looking for her. I had questions about myself, and she had answers. We're strangely connected."
"But how can you even be connected to Hope Mikaelson?" Lizzie questioned.
In her reality, Elara and Hope weren't friends, and she didn't know about Elara's extra abilities. She knew about her dead father's reappearance at the school, but she never thought to question anything that had happened.
Elara looked at Lizzie with even more confusion.
"Sorry about her," Josie apologized, slipping her arm into Elara's. "She's just very curious."
"Well, curiosity killed the cat." Elara grinned, watching the two look at her as if she had just threatened them. "And satisfaction brought it back. I understand my appearance and-- well-- all of me is new to you."
It was strange, honestly. Elara felt comfortable there. It had been months since she'd been able to relax. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for someone to attack her, and suddenly, she was at a school with a tri-brid, who was the daughter of the man her father hated and the woman he respected.
Her eyes flickered over to Alaric and Hope, who had paused their training on the dock. She broke away from Josie smoothly. "If you'll excuse me."
Elara paused just at the edge of the platform as Hope pulled away from Alaric's hug. She glanced over her shoulder at her, a smile playing on her lips.
"Up for a Round 2, Laurent?" Hope suggested.
Elara smiled genuinely at that. "You'd find your ass on the ground." She turned her attention towards Alaric, a sudden shyness overcoming her. "Can I talk with you later? About my father?"
Alaric nodded. "Of course, you can. Anytime you need me, I'll be there."
He walked past her, patting her on the shoulder. Then, he made his way towards the school.
Her hand shot out and caught the escrima sticks that Hope had tossed her without warning.
"Quick reflexes," Hope commented. "They that good in a fight?"
Elara chuckled softly, approaching the makeshift ring and spinning a stick in one hand. "Are you taunting me? Might I recall who couldn't land a hit without using magic?"
"That's what a Round 2 is for."
"Fine then." Elara rolled her shoulders. "It's your funeral, Mikaelson."
And they clashed, sparring with each other. They matched each other's movements, and for the first time in a long time, Elara felt safe.
Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.