Chapter Text
Klaus's P.O.V.
We move deeper into the shadows of the warehouse, the air growing thick with the scent of damp earth and motor oil. But beneath the city's grime, the trail was screaming. I watch her–The Little Rae–as she leads the way. It was clear she wasn't just following a scent; she was hunting a violation. I could see it in the way her shoulders lowered, the way her nostrils flared with every intake of breath. She found the blood–Elijah's blood–and in some primal, subconscious corner of her mind–claimed it as her own. It was a fascinating display of territorial instinct. Most women would be repulsed or terrified by the sheer volume of gore splattered across the pavement–remnants of the fight that had clearly taken place within these four walls–but she wasn't, she tracked it with lethal focus.
A few moments later..
As we press further into the dark, I hear her let out a mocking scoff, followed by a quiet, humorless laugh and a sharp, cynical shake of her head as she tucks away her phone once again. Although I don't catch everything she looked at, I did catch that it was a message to Elijah and had something to do with France. "You'll forgive me if I fail to see the humor of the situation," I say, my voice cutting through the silence of the warehouse like a blade. I don't slow my pace; knowing I didn't have to. She was moving with a supernatural ease that would have made a seasoned warrior envious. "Considering; as you've already accurately pointed out; every moment wasted is another moment Elijah's having who knows what done to him in our absence." She didn't look back at me. She just exhales, a long, weary sound. "Oh, trust me, what you heard wasn't amusement." She says. "Then what was it?" I ask. "Oh, nothing," she responds, her voice tight with an irony I couldn't quite place. "I was just thinking that fate has a real cruel sense of humor." Hearing this, I let out a sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. Fate and the Mikaelsons had been at war for ten centuries; I knew the punchline to that joke all too well.
"On that," I say, my gaze lingering on the back of her head, "we can agree." I say. I watched her for a moment longer. By all accounts, she shouldn't have even been here. Not after the history between us. Not after I had personally torn her world apart in that godforsaken town in Virginia. Yet here she was, shoulder to shoulder on the front lines, tracking my brother's blood with a ferocity that rivaled my own. "On that...we can agree," I repeat, the words tasting like a truce.
Raelyn's P.O.V.
36 hours later..
The midday sun was beating down on the yard of the ruined plantation, baking the charred timber and overgrown weeds until the air smelled like ash and stagnant humidity. My muscles were screaming, a dull, throbbing ache settling deep in my bones. It had been 36 hours since Elijah had gone missing, and Klaus and I had started the hunt. My brain was running on nothing but pure, unadulterated adrenaline and the fading copper scent of Elijah's blood we found in that warehouse. I leaned heavily on the shovel, wiping a mix of sweat and dirt from my forehead with the back of my hand, glaring down at the heavy wooden box we had just hauled up from the earth. "Remind me again why exactly we're wasting time digging up some psychotic hag's bones when we already know the place she's keeping him in?" I ask, my voice tight, cracking slightly under the weight of my impatience. Every second my boots were planted in this dirt was another second Elijah was in a cage.
Klaus didn't even look up from where he was dusting off the front of his jacket, looking infuriatingly pristine for a man who had just desecrated a grave. "Because, Little Rae, we only know the general location, and if I know my mother, she will not make the retrieval easy," he replies smoothly, his tone carrying that calculated, centuries-old patience that was currently driving me insane. "There's no telling what schemes she's left for us within that cursed place. I'd rather we avoid any more surprises, wouldn't you?" He asks.
I let out a sharp, ragged breath and gave a reluctant nod, tossing the shovel aside. It hit the dirt with a heavy thud. "Suppose you're right. You are the expert on 'mummy dearest', after all." I say, before locking my jaw as my hands drop to my hips, as I stare at the coffin. "Me, I don't care how we do it, just as long as we get Elijah back in the end." I say, rolling my eyes, and crossing my arms over my chest. "Fret not, Little Rae, Elijah will be returning to us before long." Klaus's voice drops, his gaze suddenly cutting past my shoulder, his blue eyes locking onto a gnarled branch in the nearby treeline. "Until then, do be sure to offer one of those infuriatingly cheeky smiles you have... we've got ourselves an audience." He motions lazily toward a lone starling sitting in the open a few paces away. Its bead-like black eyes fixed entirely on us.
A low, territorial growl vibrates in the back of my throat. The wolf in me wanted to tear the wings off the thing, knowing exactly who was peering through those feathered eyes. "That," I mutter, my voice dropping into a dark, guttural pitch as I force my lips to curve upward into a mocking, razor-sharp smirk, "I can do." Klaus lets out a soft huff of approval. "Atta girl. Keep it up, the show's about to begin." With an obnoxiously loud, sarcastic clear of his throat, Klaus steps up to the edge of the pit. "Are you watching this, Mother? Nothing says 'I loathe you' quite like desecrating a corpse!" He pops the top off the bottle of high-proof alcohol, the sharp, medicinal stench slicing through the heavy air as he pours it aggressively over the wood. "Return my brother to me or you will be reduced to ash by dawn." He flicks open his metal lighter. A small yellow flame flickered to life dancing in the breeze.
As if on cue, the heavy silence of the yard was broken by the rustle of dozens of wings. Five, ten, twenty more starlings began to blanket the treeline, watching us like a jury of crows. But the birds remained dead silent. No movement. No negotiation. No Esther. The hyper-vigilance was starting to make the edges of my vision blur with anger. Alright, that's it.. I thought, the last shred of my patience snapping like a brittle twig. Before Klaus could even register my movement, my hand shoots out, my fingers snatching the lighter right out of his grip.
Klaus didn't snap. He didn't even growl. He just leaned his head back slightly, his eyebrows shooting up in a look of pure, dark amusement. His face practically screamed: 'Oh, we're doing this? Alright then, be my guest'. I step directly over the coffin, dangling the dancing yellow flame mere inches above the alcohol-soaked wood. I look up at the trees, boring straight into the flock.
"To the wicked b*tch of the west!" I shout, the words ripping from my chest with a terrifying, unyielding heat. "You have something that Belongs To Me, something I Want Back!" Silence stretched over the yard. The starlings didn't blink. My eyes narrowed into lethal slits, the heat of the lighter warming the palm of my hand. "Do Not Test Me. I am Not one of your children you like to torment. Which means I Can and Will drop this lighter and I will not shed a single tear, nor will I give a single f*ck about it." I call out.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Klaus's smirk widen into a full, impressed grin. He steps back, crossing his arms, ceding the stage over to me. "I'd take her words seriously if I were you," Klaus calls out into the open space, his voice dripping with theatrical condescension. "I may have been bluffing, but she certainly isn't. Your choice. I'm certainly not planning to stop her." He pauses, a dark, wicked glint in his eyes as he looks up at the birds. "In fact... I'm quite curious to see how high the flames will reach." He continues. "Three," I start the countdown, my voice deadly level as I locked my eyes on the lead starling. I open my fingers just a fraction, letting the lighter tilt.
"Two." My heart hammered against my ribs, my thumb hovering over the wheel. I was entirely ready to do it. I wanted to see it burn. "On-" I'm cut off by an all too familiar voice. "Raelyn.." My body tenses immediately at the voice, before I quickly snap my head towards the old white building a few paces away. The moment I do, I'm met with the sight of Elijah standing in the doorway, his steady gaze on us. "Elijah.." I breath out in relief. Seeing him safe and sound, standing a few paces away before us, the lighter slipped from my fingers instantly. Pushing away all the logic and facts that told me this couldn't be real, I pivoted towards his direction, the live flame I had held only moments ago forgotten. The sudden brush of wind behind me told me Klaus caught the flame, before both of us blurred towards Elijah, who calmly walked further into the old building.
As we cautiously step into the building, I see Elijah standing completely unbothered a few paces away, his fingers casually running across a dusty surface. Watching this unbothered display, I stop in my tracks, observing him carefully, brows furrowed. "Elijah..?" I ask cautiously. Picking up on my concern, Klaus sets his jaw and speaks. "Elijah, what did she do to you?" He asks. Hearing this, Elijah looks up at us once more. "She's making me see, Niklaus. She's showing me the path.." Elijah says. Hearing this my eyes narrow instantly. I had wanted to believe this was real, that Elijah was now safe, but those words of his...ended the illusion of a happy reunion instantly.
"Oh, she's showing you the path? Alright, yeah, yeah that's fine. But, tell me, did she also happen to mention the fact that it's been oh I don't know, 36 hours?!" I snap, stomping over towards him. "No call, no text, not even a single damn appearance, Elijah, and now you expect us to believe this 'enlightened one' act?" I ask him. He doesn't reply. He barely even meets my gaze. Because of this, my jaw sets, and my eyes narrow, putting the pieces together. "Well, I've got one word for you, and it's 'BULLSH*T'!" is all I say before grabbing ahold of a metal candlestick with Hybrid speed and throwing it towards the left of him, which crashes against the wall just centimeters away from the figure standing in the shadows. Because of the barely missed projectile, 'Elijah' vanishes due to the one behind the illusion's focus breaking. "I may be sleep deprived and desperate, but I Know Your Son, and THAT sorry excuse of an illusion was NOT Elijah. So why don't you spare us your Lame-a** Illusions and Cryptic Riddles, Return Elijah, and quit wasting our time." I growl out, golden eyes flaring in anger as I glare into the shadows to the woman who believes herself to be a 'good mother' within. Seeing the jig was up, Esther casually reveals herself with obnoxiously graceful poise.