XXVIII - 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰

(edited)

"YOUR MOTHER IS ABSOLUTELY BONKERS, AND I DON'T MEAN THAT IN A GOOD WAY."

Judas rubbed his eyes, crows feet crinkling at the edges. "I hardly think it's time to make jokes at her expense, or is that your way of coping with her lunacy, dad?"

Klaus blanched at the title before peering over his easle to look at the young man. He was painting the dark-haired Mikaelson, creating a picture that was strikingly similar to the real person; he captured his son's vitality and mischievous green eyes.

"Stay still," He said, paintbrush in the air. "Your constant fidgeting makes me want to take this canvas and wack you with it."

Judas nodded, "Alright. Alright. It's just Bonnie and I have been searching through literally every grimiore available on alter egos. Nothing. Nada. It's as if someone's hiding the answer."

"That's ridiculous," said Rebekah, sliding over to her brother. "There's bound to be something."

Klaus completely disregarded his sister's remark. "What took you so long?"

She sighed and turned to Judas and gestured to Klaus. "Take a good look at what I have to deal with everyday."

Then, she continued, leaving no space for Klaus' coming denial.

"Alaric didn't want to hand over the stake. Luckily I'm quite the charmer."

"That's it?" queried Klaus dubiously.

"The last of the white oak stakes that can kill us. Do you want to do the honors or shall I?"

"Might as well," He mumbled, breaking the stake in half and tossing one part to Judas. "Aim for the fireplace and not my head, would you?"

"No promises," The boy winked.

"Well that's that then," Rebekah mused as the weapon burned.

"Pack your bags, we're leaving."

"Today?" asked a slack-jawed Judas Mikaelson.

"Why not? There's nothing keeping us here. We'll grab the doppelgänger and Lilura, and then be off by sunset," shrugged the Original.

Judas crossed his arms, contemplating whether he should say something as Rebekah pouted.

He knew Klaus Mikaelson liked to make others believe that he was hopelessly indifferent to everything. But after spending a considerable amount of time with the Hybrid, Judas had seen the simple lie in that façade.

To be honest, the Hybrid was cynically driven in the most horrendous ways possible, whether that be murdering someone on the spot or torturing them in his basement for weeks, but he had a certain sense of loyalty and morality.

It was loyalty to his own cause and an immortal heart of gold for the people — to be accurate — the person pushing him on every step of the way.

He was far from indifferent.

And yet it seemed strange to see Klaus Mikaelson hiding his concern for Lilura Anthemoessa because in the most apparent way possible, the Hybrid was in love with the Siren, and Siren in love with the Hybrid. They didn't have to say it, nor did they have to broadcast it in anyway.

Simply put, their love exploded on you at first impression.

It was clear in the way Klaus' gaze lingered on the young woman when she laughed boisterously. When they would be talking, he would look at her like she was a star in the sky, the only star which shone brightly enough to illuminate the entire world, or at the very least — his world.

It was the small smile she gave him after a quip he made and the gentle caress of her lithe fingers. It was a lot of things put into one.

And it was eating Klaus alive at this moment.

"Hey, you know she's going to be ok, right?" Judas cut in, ignoring Klaus and Rebekah's confused glances. "Lilura's a stubborn one."

There was a small smile on his lips, "I know. Thank you, Judas."

"I know exactly what you boys can do to lighten up. Tonight is the decade dance," Rebekah grinned.

"I'm not going to any dance without her."

"Judas and I will be there."

"I'd rather keep the incest rumors at bay, Rebekah. With your fondness for me, I'm half surprised the whole town hasn't accused you of molesting me yet."

"Rubbish."

Judas chuckled, "We only have space for one incestual pair of siblings."

"What?"

"The Lannisters, mate."

"The what now?" Klaus grumbled, growing more irritated as Judas refused to enlighten him.

"Never mind, they live in King's Landing anyway."

"Please, I have big plans for tonight. Just go for me." Rebekah said.

The Hybrid looked from Judas to Rebekah. "Okay, fine. One last hoorah."

"One last hoorah, Nik."

———— Δ ————

"This is a phone," Lilura smirked as she threw it to Alaric.

"I know what it is," He growled.

"With your age, I highly doubt that."

Alaric Saltzman sent her a deathly gaze.

"But enough. We're about to do my favorite thing. Can you guess what it is, hunter?"

Alaric rolled his eyes. "I know how to lie. Do me a favor and shut up?"

"Just this once I will, but you could be a little more appreciative of the mastermind behind our plans, Ricky boy."

She examined her nails. "Because who knows? Maybe I'll get angry at you and plot your death."

Alaric didn't answer the enchantress. Instead, he dialed Damon's number and waited for the vampire.

"Where've you been? I've been calling you all day."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just needed to get my head together."

"So I take it Rebekah got the stake?"

Alaric counted to 5, just to make sure his next words were believable. "I don't know. I woke up alone. There's no sign of it."

"Lovely. What now?"

"Well I think I need to get out of town," Alaric said as Lilura mouthed his lines behind him.  The hunter wasn't too horridly bad an actor, and as the script had been written by Lilura herself, Damon was bound to believe their lies.

"Somewhere secluded. I keep blacking out which means I'm still a threat to everyone," Alaric added a dry chuckle at the end due to Lilura' s prompting.

"I don't know if right now is the best time for you to be going on a spirit quest, Ric."

"It's just for a couple of days. I'm stocked up on Bonnie's herbs, so I should be fine. I gotta go."

When he hung up, there were two sets of applause. The first, an upbeat rhythym and the second, a slow process.

"Quite the adept actor," She said to Alaric. "Still quite cunning, Lilura."

"Well Damon is too arrogant to think his only friend would betray him," Alaric said.

"And a plan orchestrated by yours truly never ever fails."

"Just as Niklaus would blindly accept an invitation from his beloved sister, unaware that he is heading to his own death."

"What a trio we are," Lilura chuckled.

"Did you give him the stake?"

Alaric mumbled.

Esther smirked, "He burned it without hesitation."

"So where's the real one?" Lilura chimed in.

"You'll get it when it can no longer be used against me in this body."

"Ahhh. Smart girl!" chucked the siren.

Esther rolled her eyes and yanked her casket open.

Alaric shivered at the sight of a grey Esther. "So how do you—"

"How do I return to my true form? With a little magic and some help from a vampire hunter."

Alaric and Lilura exchanged a glance as Esther handed over a dagger dipped in the ashes of a white oak tree.

"Well?" She said, peering expectantly at the hunter.

"Uhhhh..."

"Bloody stab the woman. She's giving you the damn puppy dog eyes," Lilura hissed over his shoulder.

"Shut your mouth," Alaric returned, equally as quiet before thrusting the dagger into Rebekah's body.

In the coffin, Esther coughed to life.

———— Δ ————

"Are you dressing for a highschool dance or are you dressing to kill tonight?"

Judas spun around from his full length mirror, smoothing the lapels of his expensive velvet suit. He chuckled as Klaus gestured to the severely unbuttoned dress shirt which hung loosely on his tall frame, dangerously close to letting slip a full blown view of his taut chest.

"I suppose it's a bit...suggestive."

Klaus laughed loudly. "You don't say."

Judas smirked before striding out the door, putting on his silver rings. "As for the killing, it's Mystic Falls, Klaus. There's bound to be someone dead by the end of the night."

"Well, don't die," said the Hybrid, watching with a fond gleam in his eyes as Judas saluted the vampire before rushing out the door.

The party was in full swing by the time Judas slammed the breaks to his car and strolled in. He covered his sensitive ears when the song burst into a more upbeat tempo.

He glanced around the room, sitting when all he could make out were rows upon rows of sweaty teens.

Some girls were giving him the look but as Judas was unconcerned with getting his grove on, he made his way to the snacks where he knew he would not be disappointed.

"Look at those buns!"

"Why, thank you," Judas smiled brightly, turning around to face the one and only Elena Gilbert in her 20s attire.

"Oh-I," She blushed beat red, and despite the dim lighting, Judas could see perfectly how her fine cheekbones morphed into a smile. "I wasn't—" She made a strange noise in the back of her throat.

He decided to save her from the embarrassment. "Don't be sorry. I've been doing a lot of squats so I appreciate your appreciating my butt."

She stared at him in astonished disbelief.

Judas' cheeky smirk grew. "Buns?" He offered, whipping out the side dishes Caroline had organized, which in retrospect might of been what Elena had been marveling at initially.

"I don't mind if I do."

They cheers their buns and ate in silence.

"Nice dress," Judas said, giving her a quick once-over. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Elena bit her lip. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Not too bad? Please, I could smoke everyone in here!"

Elena scrunched her nose at his blunt confidence but found her heart skipping a beat at how sure he was. There was something to admire about the type of person who was completely calm and collected.

Someone who knew what they wanted.

"You are quiet pretty for a man."

It was his turn to frown in thought.

"Pretty and historically inaccurate," said another voice that joined the two.

"That get-up isn't quiet 1920s."

Judas leaned back against the table, unknowingly emphasizing his chest and capturing Elena's wide brown eyes.

"Green really doesn't suit you, pal," Judas stated, running a hand through his midnight black hair. "Isn't that right, Lena?"

"Um... yeah," She answered without a thought.

"I'm not jealous," Damon retorted immediately.

"So you say, but my friend, actions speak louder than words. I'll leave you two," Judas said.

"What was that for?" Elena rounded on Damon when the young hunter was out of sight.

His blue eyes narrowed. "He doesn't love you, Elena. Not like me or Stefan."

Elena stared Damon dead in the eyes,"Maybe that's why I like him."

———— Δ ———

"Does being undead make you immune to cemetery jitters?"

Alaric sent Lilura a hard stare.

"What? Honest question," She muttered.

"Why are we here?" Alaric inquired, looking around at the headstones.

"Long ago on this spot my son tore my heart from my chest."

"On Mr. Johnson's grave?" Lilura laughed, looking at the tombstone. "Rude."

Esther inhaled deeply and ignored the siren. "The violence of my death marked this ground for all time."

Esther led them to a conveniently opened tomb, where she promptly stopped and stared at the two.

"I'll need your ring," She told Alaric. To Lilura she raised an eyebrow, "I'll be needing your blood."

Lilura stared at Esther. "My blood," She said.

"Your blood," repeated the Original witch.

"Now, why would I give you the one thing that keeps me from death?" Lilura asked.

"Yes, and why do I have to hand over the ring?"

"I will give you two all the protection you need, however the stake will burn up in the body of its first victim. If you are to kill all of my children I will need to bind the protective magic in your ring and in your blood to the stake, thus rendering the white oak indestructible."

Alaric slipped the Gilbert heirloom off his finger, while Lilura bit her lip in thought.

Then, she grabbed the knife hidden in her waist band and sliced.

"Where do you want it?" She asked almost dismissively.

Esther grabbed two bowls.

When her blood touched the white oak stake, flames bursted from the bowls and melted Alaric's ring in the process.

When the flames died down, there laid a white oak stake superior to all those before it.

"The ultimate weapon for the ultimate hunter," whispered Lilura. "Nice going, dude."

When she noticed there was only one, the enchantress raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes," Esther remarked. "You won't be needing a weapon."

"And why's that?"

Esther quickly grabbed the second bowl which had precisely 5 drops of Lilura's blood in it. The older woman closed her eyes and started to speak incoherently.

"What the actual —"

"Shade."

The siren laughed, impressed with Esther's incredulous behavior.

"Ok, we get it. You're a witch. Bippity boppity boo! But seriously stop, it's freaking me and the hunter out."

Esther did not answer. Instead she focused, eyes still closed. "Shade. Brash. Print."

Lilura's chest grew hot. "Esther," She coughed. "What the hell?"

"Shade, brash, print, dawn, feral, moon."

Lilura's knees buckled and Alaric caught her by instinct. For once there was an emotion other than hatred in his brown eyes.

"Esther, what are you doing?"

"With the power of the ancestors, I commence the Bloodless Monstrum. I can on the Draconi."

Lilura howled in agony as one hundred thousand knives pierced her spine. She writhed, desperate to ease the suffering. Alaric cursed at she fell to the floor, a resounding crack echoing in the cemetery as Lilura's head hit the ground.

"Stop it!" She groaned, gritting her teeth as another wave of hysterical pain emitted from her back. "Please."

"Lilura!" Alaric called.

The pain was never ending. It assulted her back with the ferociousness of two hundred wolves. Her head protested as it felt like rocks were being pounded on her skull, and the screaming wasn't helping either.

She couldn't tell if they were hers or the fire's. At least, she thought there was one with the smoke in her eyes.

Her shirt collar stuck to her neck, suffocating the Siren. She choked and coughed. Her hands wiped the saliva from her mouth only to be greeted by the sight of more blood.

Golden blood.

"Oh my god," breathed Alaric. He watched as the enchantress' skin turned a scaley emerald, replacing her honey-tan skin. Shining gold liquid escaped the cracks, creating a waterfall of alluring ichor. It flowed out of her body as if being compelled out by some gravitation force. She convulsed and choked on the golden blood in her throat.

Alaric pushed her onto her side so that the siren could cough it out.

Her blue-green eyes rolled back into her head and then closed.

As quickly as it started, the burning, tearing, ripping pain went away like the fire which had scorched the white oak stake.

So this is what it feels like to burn.

Lilura opened her eyes, making Alaric shiver in horror at the beast that lay before him.

"You do not need a stake," Esther said slowly, conjuring up a something with her hands. She crouched down to the siren with the object in her hand.

It's a mirror, Lilura observed. But why?

She crawled closer to it, her heart pounding with the voracious obsession in the witch's eyes and the somber caution in Alaric's. There was a certain feeling in the pit of her stomach, almost like she was going to sink into the floor with just how heavy it was. She wanted to run — at least the sensible part of her did — but her body was completely charred. It was ruined beyond movement. She had no more fight left in her to do anything. What little self preservation she had before was now reduced to sparse ashes.

"You don't need a weapon, because you are the weapon."

And when the Siren looked at the mirror, she finally understood why.