Chapter Text
As she skipped a stone across the lake, Hope had a soft, peaceful look on her face. There were no waves, no birds chirping, nothing of the sort. The world was unnaturally quiet. For most people, such a thing would be startling. But for her? It was perfection. A break from the noise of the modern world.
Even for humans, it could be too much sometimes. She knew this. Even if she had never really been one. But as a Tribrid? It was oh so much worse. She didn’t just hear a car from its muffler; she heard the wheels against the road, the screws rattling, the gas moving. Even the hum of electronics and the vibrations of plastic and metal from high-speed movement.
That was just one car. Let alone every noise a human made or every beep of a phone. Footsteps behind her broke that blissfully needed quiet. Each step was steady and unrushed, yet she also heard the fine leather hitting the dirt and creasing just so. There was only one other person in this entire world, so she didn’t move. “It’s quite beautiful and peaceful, isn't it?”
As her voice echoed out, she could almost trace the sound as it bounced off leaves, so keen was her hearing. But she was more mesmerized by finally hearing her real voice again. Then again, she was mesmerized by most things these days.
“Beautiful in a rather macabre kind of way, yes.” His voice was low and refined as he stepped onto the dock, filled with utter confidence. Yet she could sense it so differently than the last time they had spoken. The hidden timbre only vampiric hearing could catch. How his heart beat in tune with his movements. How controlled even the flow of his blood was—it was impeccable, perfection combined into one. The grandest illusion ever woven, and one that lasted a thousand years. Her lips quirked up.
“I suppose a mix of Mystic Falls and New Orleans was destined to be rather gruesomely beautiful when it was crafted from both of our memories.” She tossed another rock and watched it skip seven times as he finally came to stand right behind her.
“I take it I am right in believing this is a Chambre de Chasse, and a rather impressive one at that.” He was so close that his voice tickled the hair on top of her head, and she forced down the shiver, the need to turn around and hug him. Because while she had tried to hate him a few years ago, she never could. Not really.
He was still her uncle. He had given up everything for not just her, but their entire family. How could she hate him for one of the worst days of his life? How could she when she didn’t judge others so? How could she hate the first person to ever fight for her, to love her before either of her parents? So, she laughed in amusement because he knew he was right and was just trying to be imposing. “You’d be correct. If I’m correct, you’re quite used to hearing that, though? Either way, it’s my own modified version of the spell.”
He moved around her to stand side by side. From the edge of her vision, she caught sight of his perfectly tailored suit stretched across one half of him, before she looked away. Just as she had remembered, the black high-quality wool perfectly fit over his bicep and accentuated his waist. Learning that it had been meant to be a subtle intimidation tactic had been hilarious after his death, especially because she always thought of him a bit like a proud peacock.
“Perhaps.” They stared out at the lake for a quiet few moments. “Might I inquire as to why you have brought me here?” His voice was non-threatening, tone befitting of the perfect gentleman. Which was quite amusing considering she knew what kind of beast could truly come out. Then again, was there a beast greater than her? It was doubtful. ‘For who could match Hope Mikaelson? The coward who would rather run through time than save the world.’
“I figured you’d rather enjoy some peace, instead of being stuck in the dark. I know I would.” The thought of ever being stuck in eternal darkness again had goosebumps breaking out across her skin, and her stomach roiling. ‘No. Never again.’ She had been completely and utterly broken after those short few months, just like everyone else who entered Malivore. The mere thought of a dagger working on her had been the real reason she had taken them from her father. Reviving her uncle was just a convenient excuse at best. A way to delude herself from the real reason.
She could hear him tug at his sleeves subconsciously, and Hope quirked her lips up as he admitted, “You’d be quite correct. That is, if I didn’t doubt the intentions of a mysterious teenage witch.”
She turned to face him. “Is it impossible that I just wanted to do something good? That I think no one should have to suffer a dagger?” He turned to face her as well and froze as his eyes traced her face before landing on her eyes. Her heart fluttered, and she knew he heard it by the way he subtly inhaled.
“No, I don’t believe it is impossible…” His voice trailed off, and she shakily exhaled as he continued to stare. His hazel-brown eyes were completely blank of emotion. “How long?” His voice was low and sad, like his heart was about to shatter.
“That’s a complicated yet, at the same time, simple question.” He knew. Of course, he did. How could he not recognize her father’s features? How could he not recognize on sight the daughter of the brother he stood beside for a thousand years? How could he not see the love and care she tried so hard to hide? ‘It was stupid to appear as myself. I should have just stuck to being a child. Or even taken an entirely different form.’ But she had just wanted to feel normal, just for a little bit. And now he knew.
“It always is.” He wrenched his gaze away and back toward the lake, but she remained watching him, unable to look away now that she had faced him. “What’s your name?”
“Hope.” A soft smile was his response.
“A wonderful name. How old are you, Hope?” Although he seemed interested, and he probably was, her Uncle was a brilliant and conniving man. It was also a way to gather more information. Sadly for him, she was far too used to her family’s shenanigans and ways.
“That’s complicated as well.” She laughed at his amused huff.
“Yes, it does all seem to be.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll seem even more confusing when you’re undaggered in a couple of months.”
He tilted his head back to her, a curious look shining through. “A couple of months? Are you quite sure?”
She winked. “You have my word.”
His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. “Well, I’ll have to take your word on it then.”
She nodded her head, and then, in a flight of whimsy, took off her jacket. “You know, I’ve wondered for a while now.” He tilted his head, and she carefully set the jacket on the ground. “Which one of us would win in a sparring match. If you’re interested, Elijah?”
“This is quite a horrible distraction.” Even though he said that, he was taking his suit jacket off as well, but unlike her, he walked over to a nearby tree to place it upon a branch carefully.
“It wasn’t meant to be hidden. Besides, I have wondered.”
He turned back to her, rolling up his sleeves. “I would say the same, but I’m afraid I didn’t get the chance.” There was bitterness in his voice, and she gently smiled at him.
“Don’t worry, as I said, it’s complicated. But for now…” She blurred forward, not tapping into her werewolf side. He matched her. In truth, in the real world, she would be weaker than he. At least when not enhancing herself with her wolf or witch side. The power of a vampire, ignoring their age, was based on the human body. Hope was a child, albeit she knew she was essentially supernatural Jesus. It was still a child's body.
But this was her Chambre de Chasse. The rules were up to her to make. So if she declared them equal, so be it. He blocked her punch and used it to take a step forward, a fast strike going straight towards her stomach. She twisted, flexible in ways he never could be, as she flittered around his punch. A grin cracked upon her lips as they descended into a flurry of blows.
“Interesting…” That was all Elijah said before he moved. As her back landed against the dock, a laugh escaped her. She hadn’t expected to win when making them equals. No matter how skilled, no matter how experienced she was against different monsters. She had not a decade of fighting against his over a thousand years. It was simply too large a gap in their experience. Hope flipped back up onto her feet.
“Again.”
Groaning as her body hit the wooden boards once more, Hope snorted at his chuckle. “Laugh it up, I didn’t actually expect to win. Even if this is a bit embarrassing.” He reached a hand down, which she took. When she was back on her feet, he spoke.
“I do have quite a few years on you, and you were clearly holding back your werewolf side. It’s impressive you did as well as you did.” He took a step back, curiously examining her. She wasn’t at all surprised he realized she was a Tribrid. The second she had moved, he had likely realized it. “You fight far more like me. But I do see bits of Niklaus and Rebekah as well in your style.”
“I had good trainers.” At her response, he nodded.
“Yes, Marcellus was always an excellent warrior.” She froze, and his lips curled upward. “I see that I’m right.” Not quite, but it was close enough. He could have never guessed Alaric Saltzman after all. But it was ridiculously scary that he had guessed which of their family had trained her. ‘This is why I’m trying not to deal with the rest of the family yet. Fuck. Luckily, he’s daggered for a bit longer still.’
“It’s complicated.”
A hint of mischief danced in his eyes. “Yes, I’m beginning to get the idea it is.”
Hope rolled her eyes. “I should get going. Time isn’t frozen in the outside world after all.” She paused, “It was nice to see you, Elijah, really.” To see him before he was shattered into a million pieces by her grandmother and his memories being erased.
His face softened. “It was nice meeting you. Will I be seeing you again?” He held back from asking if he was to be alone for the next months until his undaggering, but she heard the question.
She grinned. “Often. It’s hard to find someone to fight or a peaceful time to do art outside of here.” With that, she disappeared. Her eyes in the real world snapped open. For a brief moment, there was a large smile on her face. Then, the happiness that had welled up inside started to fade the second she saw tiny hands once more. She sighed.
“Theoretically speaking, I could just do it with a burst of magic, right? But the problem is the side effects. Not on me, of course—I’m too strong for that. Especially with the Other Side still existing. If it were from Limbo, maybe. And that’s a big maybe, to be clear. I’m talking more about the side effects on Kol. Any thoughts?” She slurped her shake aggressively, and the woman whose face was pale in shock shook like a leaf.
“No? Please don’t hurt me!”
Hope rolled her eyes. “You abuse children. Girl, you’re so fucked it’s unreal. You’re an actual monster, and I kill those. So buck up and listen well. Maybe having a good thought for once in your life will save you.”
As the woman whimpered, shaking in her bonds, Hope detachedly watched as she tried to shake the chair. She watched how the woman tried to break free or get her magic to work again. None of those would happen. Hope was far too experienced in the art of dealing with captured people.
It was a weekly occurrence at the Salvatore School. Which was weird, because it was more like a monthly occurrence with her family. ‘That probably says something. What that is, I don’t know.’
“Well, you keep doing that, and I’ll keep talking. Alright? So here’s my thought: if I use the dagger as an anchor and then shove a bunch of magic infused with my will, something will happen. What though? Is he going to come back as a ghost? Will he be locked into the dagger? Will he just come back in his body? As a witch? Now, I could not use the dagger, and that removes one of those problems. But then I’d need to use a whole lot more magic, and I’m trying to stay at least a little bit on the down-low.
“It’s kind of hard to stay hidden if you light up the entire city. Or heavens forbid, the entire Gulf.” Hope paused, thinking it over. “Although maybe I shouldn’t? Things would certainly be easier if I just went full power. Then new threats might come too early. It’s hard to say; it kind of gets rough to think when your brain is buzzing non-stop. Especially when you have all these weird emotions and feelings. Like me rambling like this, ugh! So what do you say?”
“You—you can use the ancestors! Some of them will surely have a connection with Kol Mikaelson.” At the panicked words, Hope hummed in curiosity. So the woman sputtered out, “Mary-Alice Claire or any number of witches! Surely somewhere there’s something of his that will help a bit more than just whatever dagger it is!”
A wide smile appeared on Hope’s face. “See! I knew you would be of use. I’m finding myself having to pick other people’s brains. You know, because I’m stuck like this. It gets pretty hard to think sometimes, but I said that already. You’re wrong, though. I won’t need the ancestors now that you said that. I know exactly where I can get his stuff now that you’ve reminded me. Now, what should I do with you?”
“Please! Don’t kill me, I helped you, right?” That was true. She did. Then again, she was a child abuser. Also a murderer, but that was common among most supernatural beings. Hope tried not to judge; not everyone was raised at the Salvatore School. Even she broke some of those rules, let alone random witches from one of the nine covens. Really, a little black magic never hurt a Mikaelson witch. A Gemini siphoner twin? Sure. But those were two completely different topics. It was barely breaking the rules when she did it!
“Alright. I’m going to admit, I really hate killing. It’s too easy for me. I do it once and start thinking, why not a few more? Honestly, I should never have killed that Dragon. I became kind of horrible after that for a while. So, a lifetime at that quaint little cottage it is. The one Mary-Alice died inside of should do it instead, no?”
“Wait, no! Anything but tha—” Hope snapped, and the woman fell unconscious. She took another slurp of her milkshake, and her nose wrinkled at the off taste.
“It’s the little things that you never know you’ll miss.” With that sadly muttered sentence, she shook her head. “Let’s see if you can’t fix that, shall we?” She leaned down and gently scratched the witch's wrist. Gently popping her milkshake’s top off, she tilted the wrist over her milkshake. A few moments later, she licked the wrist clean and whispered, “Invisique.” Both she and the unconscious witch turned invisible.
The next morning, Fauline’s Cottage had another resident. The milkshake had also been barely passable after her small addition.
Stepping into Lafayette Cemetery, Hope paused. She had been expecting to be repelled, but an annoyed look appeared on her face when she wasn’t. With utmost reluctance, she continued onward after a few seconds, once it was clear nothing was going to happen. ‘I really need to figure out if that’s a Tribrid thing making me immune to all my weaknesses, or a deal with Mother Nature thing.’ Both were equally horrifying.
It did cross her mind that the Ancestors could have just let her in. But technically speaking, this version of her hadn’t been born in New Orleans. Probably. Maybe. It was complicated. And honestly, it wasn’t worth thinking about until she actually deigned to talk to them.
The Ancestors were judgmental in general. Especially to people with power, and that’s one thing Hope had. Too much of it, in fact. It was her firm belief that no one should wield such unchecked power as she did. Especially not in the body of a child. Sadly, this was her life, and she was the one with the power. Luckily, there was an upside to the revelation that she was immune to this type of boundary spell as well. Even if it brought her far too many worries.
It gave her an idea. ‘Where is that “playhouse” of his again?’ Because if she were immune to consecrated ground and house ownership, what about a bloodline spell? Honestly, that sounded like a far better idea than trying to sneak Davina out of the church. Which, in turn, was better than communing with random Claire ancestors.
So, she wandered. In other places, that might seem strange or out of place, especially considering she looked like a child. Luckily, Lafayette Cemetery was the one place witches could drop their guard. Plus, the witches of New Orleans were weird. Hope didn’t even get one strange glance. Which was highly amusing for her, considering she was basically an affront to everything most witches stood for. Then again, she was basically acting as the champion of Mother Nature. ‘So maybe not. Life is weird and complicated. Just like I told Elijah.’
An hour later, Hope wandered around the surprisingly large and dust-free building beneath Lafayette Cemetery. ‘This is kind of impressive.’ Especially considering it was built and operated in the early 1900s, when science was far less advanced. Then again, her uncle had basically spent his entire life either studying magic or in the midst of debauchery. The fact that his hidey-hole, where he taught witchcraft, surpassed the understanding of that time by decades wasn’t that big of a deal.
Pausing at one specific spot, she tilted her head. ‘Maybe even nearly a century. Wasn’t this invented in 2014?’ Which was when Davina originally resurrected her uncle. Huh. Okay, he was kind of badass. ‘That means this is his invention…’ Well. That would certainly work, wouldn’t it? An invention of his own making, that was so profound that it would still be brand new a century later. That certainly would have a meaningful amount of connection to him. ‘So, do I revive him before or after Aunty Beks comes home?’
On one hand, her uncle running about New Orleans would assuredly cause her family to reunite more quickly. On the other hand, her uncle running about New Orleans would most assuredly be an absolute clusterfuck. Unless…
‘Huh. Surely that wouldn’t work?’ Then again, perhaps it was destiny. Besides, she could always make him an Original again per her deal with Mother Nature after she figured out how to turn him into a Siphoner. ‘This might work?’ She should probably check up on everyone she cared about before reviving her clinically insane uncle, though.
Especially when she couldn’t predict if he would believe whatever story she decided to tell him, let alone whether he would decide to fuck up everything, hide away in a cave doing magic, or somewhere in between.
Checking up and talking to people first would be reasonable. She could be that, at least sometimes. Although it was significantly harder now.
‘Then again, the few people who had ever claimed I was the bastion of sanity had been lying to me, or in love with me.’ Hope Mikaelson knew she wasn’t in any way sane. Then again, let alone what teenager—what witch, werewolf, or vampire—was sane?
She literally agreed to rend time apart just so she wouldn’t have to miss her ex-boyfriend, whom she still loved. Also, her dad, mom, and uncle. But still. Those weren’t the actions of a sane person. She knew that and had no delusions there.
Naturally, the first person she would visit was Davina. She was by far the least troublesome and the one who caused the least tumultuous emotions. “You’ve been enjoying Astral Projection, I see.” Glancing for a moment longer at the technically crude, but emotionally packed, charcoal drawing, Hope smiled at Davina’s shy look from the bed.
The best artwork was that which was inspired, the actual skill level of the artist being unimportant. At least, in her view. The fact that Davina’s artwork was suddenly far more interesting and filled with emotion could thus clearly be explained by Astral Projection. It was a simple deduction, really.
“It’s been really nice to be outside again, even if I can’t touch anything.” Davina twiddled her fingers together before hesitantly asking, “Do you think we could maybe do something sometime? It’s just I can’t really let anyone from my school see me, and the rest of my friends are…” She trailed off, tears building.
Hope stepped forward and, with a smile on her face, hopped up onto the bed and pulled her into a hug. “Of course! I have a few things to do. But how about Saturday? We can go and see a movie. It’s got to have been forever since you’ve seen one in a theater, right?” Davina’s blinding smile in response had Hope hugging her even tighter.
‘You’re so innocent still… what did my family do to you, Davina Claire?’ The thought had a burst of rage spike throughout her, yet she didn’t let it show. Because while Davina had been her aunt in her first life, things were different and strange now. She’d even dare to begin to think about Davina like a little sister if she weren’t stuck in a child’s body.
Which really did keep complicating everything. ‘Hopefully, Kol can help fix that.’ Pulling out of her thoughts and the hug, Hope looked from Davina to the easel. “This really is a lot better. But I still have a lot to teach you, if you want?” The blinding smile she got in return brought back a fragment of the happiness she’d had with Elijah.
This time, it didn’t disappear because there was no illusion to be broken. Hours later, Hope left the attic with a smile on her face.
Her dip into her mother's dreams once more, before speaking with Elijah, was more about timing than a statement about the order of problematic emotions. Trotting up to Hayley, Hope nudged her with her snout and let out a happy woof when she was immediately scratched behind the ears. “Hello again.” There was warmth in Hayley’s voice, and she knew then that her mom remembered a decent bit of their conversation. “How have you been, kid?”
Hope tilted her head, confused. It had only been two days since they last spoke. Had her mom thought her brief disappearance was because of problems? ‘I was just trying to give you time…’
Hayley sighed, muttering under her breath, “Mikaelsons.” Hope froze as she was suddenly picked up by the scruff of her neck like a puppy. Which technically she was currently. “You’re a kid alone in a world completely different from your own, and I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. So how are you?” ‘Oh.’
Hope wiggled fiercely, and when dropped, instantly turned back into her human form. “It’s okay! You don’t have to worry. No one can hurt me.”
Instead of assuaging Hayley, a frown formed. “That’s not what I—” she sighed and restarted. “No one should be alone in a place they don’t understand.”
Her care made a nice ooey-gooey feeling flood Hope, and so she happily grinned. “Don’t worry! I made a friend. I can’t tell you about her, though.” ‘This world also isn’t strange to me. A bit old, but not strange.’ Of course, she couldn’t say that. “But I have news! It’s not about the pack—well, not in the traditional sense?” She trailed off, because technically her family was her pack, but that wasn’t the same pack for her mom—Hayley. The fact that no one ever realized that Hope knew was part of the reason she was so fucked up.
Hayley sighed, clearly frustrated, although Hope didn’t quite understand why. ‘Maybe because of no news about the Crescents?’ Not that she had tried to find them yet. Then, a forced smile appeared on her face as she asked, “What news?”
“Well. I can’t get Elijah back to you yet. It would cause a war if I tried to, and I really don’t want to have to hurt Dad when he tries to do something dumb to Marcel. So, I’m going to get my little sibling a different uncle!”
Hayley stared, utterly confused. “Hope, the rest of Klaus’s family besides Rebekah is dead.”
“Not for long. I’m reviving Kol tomorrow!” Hope pouted when Hayley’s face turned into one of utter horror.
“You’re sending someone people call the Original Ripper to protect my baby and me?”
Hope rolled her eyes. “He’s not a ripper. Trust me, if he were one, Dad and ‘lijah would have never been able to dagger him so often. It’ll be fine. Trust that I know what I’m doing. If not, trust I’d never risk my family being hurt.”
When Hayley still seemed uncertain, with some reluctance, Hope said a tiny little lie veiled in truth. “I never met Vivianne. But I have met you, and you’re the mom of my little sibling. That basically makes you my mom. I’ll never let you be in danger, okay?”
There was a moment of silence before Hayley nodded. “Okay. I believe you. I’m sorry, it’s just… Everything is so much, and really fucked up.”
Hope wrapped her in a hug, which really only reached her waist, but the thought clearly counted based on Hayley dropping to her knees to give one in return. “If everything's too much, we can go for a run?”
There was amusement in her mom—Hayley’s voice when she said, “I think that’s a great idea.” Before she was even finished, Hope was already once more in wolf form.
Brush sliding against canvas, Hope smiled as she heard the well-controlled heartbeat pause in the doorway. “You can come in, Elijah.” She had come here to see him after all, even though he was the last one. He did so and carefully looked around. She could tell just from the shifting of his shoes that they were of a different make than the last pair she had seen him in. They were newer and used more artificial textiles.
“This room wasn’t here before.” There was a hint of question in his tone, and without looking back at him, she nodded.
“It’s complicated.” She shared his chuckle for a moment before adding, “But this is my room.”
“It’s quite wonderful. If I remember correctly, it was Marcellus’s.” They both knew he remembered correctly, but she nodded again anyway. She still hadn’t looked away from her painting. “I’m surprised. You seem rather accepting of me watching you. Niklaus is quite testy when others bother his painting.”
She wouldn’t know. He had never really bothered to paint with her beyond the first two times. One of which was water coloring. Hope didn’t say that, of course, so instead she shrugged. “There’s no reason to hide my art. Besides, it’s just going to disappear when you leave this place. I’m really just painting because I don’t have time to in the real world.”
“I thought time was the same between here and there?” Even as he asked that, he curiously looked at a different painting—one she had done soon after both of her parents’ deaths and had left back in New Orleans. It was a horribly dark piece, one that had helped her to get rid of any bad contemplations she momentarily had.
“It is. That doesn’t mean I have time in the real world.” She heard the frown form on Elijah’s face as his muscles twisted.
“There are problems then? Ones that you’re avoiding, I’d guess.”
“When are there not problems for the Mikaelson family?”
He let out an exhausted chuckle at her words and paused in front of the window. “Indeed. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry about you or the rest of the family.” ‘You should worry less. I don’t want to see you die again.’
Hope didn’t say that horrible thought out loud. Instead, she changed the topic. “If the Chambre begins to shake, don’t worry. I just have some heavy magic I need to focus on later.”
He turned from the window and stared intently at her. “What magic is so great that it would cause this masterfully crafted spell to be potentially destroyed?” She didn’t respond for a few moments and instead finished her painting with a few strokes. Once it was done, she shifted the easel so he could see.
“Kol.” A singular word that perfectly displayed his shock. “You’re going to revive him.” His tacked-on sentence was barely more than a murmur, as if there were too many thoughts in his head to contain even that. His eyes snapped to her with a fierce intensity, and Hope forced herself not to flinch back. “That is dangerous magic. One that not many witches can perform, and even fewer without their deaths. None without a cost.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not just a witch then. Isn’t it?” She didn’t tell him not to worry, because such a thing would be pointless. He knew that as well, yet clearly heard her unspoken comment.
He sighed. “I suppose it is. It’s not like I can stop you anyway. I suppose this does explain the visit.” Hope nodded, a somber look in her eyes.
“I’d like my family to be as whole as possible, Elijah. It’s why I can’t let you be undaggered for a few more months.” He rapidly absorbed the information and came to the correct conclusion.
“Rebekah. She’s not with you.” There was confusion, anger, and even a hint of disgust as he said that and added, “I had never thought she would do such a thing.”
Hope cut him off. “Elijah.” He paused, clearly having been about to say something else. “It’s complicated. Don’t think too badly about Aunty Beks. When you wake up, you’ll understand.” He stared for a moment before reluctantly nodding.
“You still won’t tell me what’s really going on then?”
“I don’t know how. I never planned to bring you here. When I was making it, it was just for me. But then one moment… I just brought you here.” She had made the Chambre so that just for a small while she could be herself. Not affected by the confines of her body, or of the ‘past’ world she found herself in. A world of peace and serenity, where she could paint and be alone. Just for a while.
“Because no one should be alone.” The words slipped from his lips with ease, and she stepped forward. “I do believe that is why you brought me here, Hope. I don’t know why, but you feel alone. Don’t you?” She shuddered and looked away, doing her best to fight back the sudden tears building in her eyes.
God. Her family, even when they didn’t know her, could still read her so easily. “Hope.” With a steadying breath, she turned back to face him. “I don’t like being alone either. So thank you.” The words weren’t fake, fabricated, or carefully planned out. They weren’t a mask, like she knew he always wore, from stories and her few meetings with him.
At the sheer raw sincerity, she wrapped her arms around him. ‘I really missed you, Uncle Elijah.’ She didn’t dare to say the words out loud, even as he hugged her back without a moment of hesitation.
Hope opened her eyes and carefully dabbed away the tears from her time in the Chambre. She stood up and quickly glanced over the safehouse with a sigh.
“You know, I’m going to look real silly if this doesn’t work.” Picking up what others would mistake for a crystal ball, Hope walked over to a pit in the ground and gently chucked the object into a vat of black, almost mudlike liquid. Of course, it wasn’t actual mud. She’d never use that for magic. “Or really horrible, because you’ll come out as some kind of half-formed monstrosity that I’ll have to kill.” She paused, contemplating it. “Let’s call it thirty-three percent each and one percent leftover for variety.”
Really, it didn’t help that no one ever let her actually delve into black magic. Well, besides the very same uncle who she was about to revive, who had taught her bits of it in secret. Really, it was everyone else's fault that she was having to do this based on what she knew from limbo, from watching Ted in action, and from her memories of the Hollow.
She never understood the secrecy or hesitation. She never understood the need to shy away from the art. There was nothing inherently wrong with black magic. ‘So what if I chant a little death curse? It was still me deciding who died! Just like with an aneurysm or neck-snapping spell.’
People were so weird. Didn’t they understand the difference between Black Magic and Black Magic you needed to channel for? It’s not like she was Josie or Lizzie, who were basically allergic to it because of twin sympathy. Let alone how Josie’s whole problem had been tricked into using that horrific sandclock that was basically made to trick young witches and warlocks.
There was no Dark Magic in the world that could overload her to such an extent; Hope knew that for a fact. Because not even the Hollow was more powerful than her, at least not in raw power. Skill? Sure. The fact that her ancestor even knew English was telling enough that the Hollow was still learning over the centuries.
But power? No. Nothing beat her in that, not even the gods. The visions shown to her made it clear they were dirty cheaters who were just immune to her magic. Not actually more powerful than her. ‘Enough. I can think about it later.’
Shaking her head because she had been stalling, Hope stretched her hands out over the vat. Magic of this kind that wasn’t rooted in logic or theory didn’t have incantations. It didn’t have vague gestures. It was primordial. It just was.
Her magic thrummed throughout her being before it rushed to her hands. They glowed a blinding blue, and once it all gathered with a force of her will, she pushed it into the pit. ‘Kol Mikaelson. Come back to this world, come back to me. It is not your time to be stuck, nor to travel to the world of the Gods.’ She commanded her magic to connect to the Other Side, to find his soul and pluck it from that realm.
She willed her magic to reconstruct a body, whole and healthy. Power that would have killed an ordinary witch poured out from her every second, and winds churned inside the safehouse as lightning crackled outside. She could feel a body forming in the pit, absorbing the liquid and magic, but no soul came.
She snarled, veins popping out as her eyes bled yellow. “I said… Come back!” With the closest thing to a roar her body could produce, the walls cracked as her magic swelled. She felt it then, a connection, an anchor to her spell.
Hope gripped it tight with her magic and pulled. Something, no—someone tried to fight back. She didn’t let them and kept pulling. She heard a voice screech in rage, and felt the swell of a thousand other voices from the other side, suddenly trying to fight back. Hope simply pushed even more, never once giving up. “You will not keep him!” At her scream of rage mixed with fear, it felt like the world paused for a brief moment.
Then the pit of black goo exploded as Kol Mikaelson rolled out of it, coughing and wheezing. Hope slumped to the ground, utterly exhausted.
He coughed once, twice, and then his eyes opened. “Holy hell, kiddo, that was a ride. Never seen anyone kick dear old mom’s ass like that.” She stared in complete and utter bafflement as he wiped sludge off himself, before he turned to her. “Now, do you want to explain what the hell you did? ‘Cause my memories are kind of like a sieve from your birth onward, besides the whole you and Mother Nature reversing time and destroying the world to do it.”
Her mouth opened in shock as she tried to say anything, but all that came out was a pathetic whine that vaguely resembled, “How?”
He grinned, proud as a peacock. “Why dark objects, of course! I wasn’t going to let my memories be affected again after I forgot you twice. Now was I?” He paused. “Although I have to say I didn’t prepare for this.” He looked down, flexing his fingers as he did so, and there was an utterly enthralled look before he shook it off.
“Now, tell me. Why did my favorite niece go full Tribrid, only to decide to end the world? Oh, and then reset it?” She opened her mouth again to try to respond, but in the end could only groan, a mix of confusion, horror, and utter embarrassment.
“Oh gods, don’t tell me you did it because of that peacock?” She didn’t respond not only because of his own hypocrisy, but because she was so completely confused. It was his turn to groan.
Finally, something burst out of her as she stood up and snarled at him. “It wasn’t just because of him, okay! Nature showed me a lot of things before I fully agreed.” He shot her a look that had her wilting.
“Right. Well, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” He flicked his hands, and with muttered words, the remaining goo just slipped off of him to the floor. He sat down on a stool. “How about the year, and most importantly, why the hell are you a child again?”
“Very pushy for the person I just revived after everyone missed two years of parent-teacher conferences, aren’t you?” The second the words slipped out of her, Hope flinched, especially when he reared back. “Shit, I didn’t mean that.”
Kol carefully leaned forward again, a sigh escaping from him. “No. You’re right. No hellos, no checking on you. Immediately trying to dive back into it, and we were a horrible family to you after Nik died. I’m sorry, Hope, we should have been better.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry too. I should have said something, and I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just, everything's been so much. Everything is so much louder and more since I became a Tribrid. Then it became so much worse when I came back in time and was trapped like this.”
He frowned, brows furrowing. “Turning back time made you a child? So this is what, 2019? 2020?”
She laughed a laugh filled with exhaustion, sorrow, and a hundred other things. “No. It’s July 2011, before my birth.”
He frowned, eyes flickering about deep in thought. “That shouldn’t be possible for many reasons. But what’s more important is that it shouldn’t have caused you to de-age. You clearly aren’t in your younger self's body after all.” He stared back at her. “You said you made a plea with Mother Nature, and she accepted?”
“More like Mother Nature approached me. Offered me a deal.” He sucked his teeth at her words, and she shrugged, knowing exactly how it sounded. “I didn’t exactly have time to think it over.”
“Yes…” He acknowledged his words but still trailed off afterward. “Strange. When a deal is made with Nature, she doesn’t do things like that. Loopholes yes. But intentionally screwing someone over? Especially when she comes to them. Hell, when she comes to them, she doesn’t even let them know.”
After thinking it over for a few more moments, he nodded, coming to the same conclusion she had come to over a week ago. “She wants you to be this age for some reason.”
“I figured that out a while ago. Just not the why.” She sighed, “I’ve been here for almost a month now and am confused at a lot of things, really. It’s why I rushed to revive you. To have someone to talk things through with. Also, to help me plan because my brain is struggling to do that. Originally, I had been planning to force you to listen. Guess I don’t need to do that.”
Kol smiled, seemingly uncaring that she had been planning to magically enforce her will upon him to help her. “Well then. Let’s get started, shall we? You’ll have to fill me in along the way, of course. I have a startling number of holes in my memory.”
So, they did. It was productive. It was insane, and so many other things.
It was exactly what Hope had needed. It was a good day. The one bad part was that they both agreed that Rebekah had to come to New Orleans, and they couldn’t force it. But still, that was just one small wrinkle. They could wait a couple of months for her.
In the meantime, though? Hope knew what chaos she would cause by summoning him, even if she would do her best to rein him in. Her father was in for a real surprise, though.