¹ DESTINED | elijah m.

7 | i do not know • i

•

__________________

My friend
My fellow traveller
Don't ask where I go
The only logical answer
Unhelpful and yet not,
Is that I do not know.

- Rumi, Don't Ask

__________•__________

Winter, 1859
Cloverville
Annual Ball

Klaus was back in town after a month, attending yet another ball and this time his eyes wandered around the halls, looking for someone. The memory of their last encounter brought a smile to his lips as his gaze flickered to every woman attending the gala, expecting to see Maeve again.

An old ally had invited them over to stay at her residence until the matter was resolved and he was thankful to the witch for helping them out even after decades.

"If it isn't Klaus Mikaelson?" Sharel Beauchêne interrupted his thoughts as she stopped next to him.

Klaus turned and took her hand to kiss it as a playful glint appeared in his eyes, "You grow beautiful with time, Sharel. What's a little gray hair disobeying your youthful ways?"

"And you remain as polite as ever. How come you got swept up in yet another dreadful scheme to end your existence, Klaus?" She asked.

"I came to heed to them after my last encounter with white oak, pesky witches and intolerable humans."

"Rebekah is still residing in her coffin, I presume?"

"She dared claim to love Marcellus, hence she is learning quite a lesson," Klaus replied in annoyance, "though I am grateful that you have allowed Elijah and myself to grace your abode until we deal with the fools."

"It'd be our pleasure. Arnold is travelling and my granddaughter is preoccupied with her usual business. It becomes quite eerie to reside in a house without its occupants and Adelia claims it is my paranoid self, demanding her express attention to tend to my impromptu needs because picking out a flower from a garden is considered offensive."

"Your granddaughter seems to know you perfectly to give you a piece of mind. I might agree with her regarding your old age, it is making you paranoid indeed."

"You're the one to talk. A 900-year-old paranoid immortal," Sharel said with an edge of humour to her voice.

"You know better to repeat those words Sharel," he humoured her. "I am looking for a girl named Maeve. Do you happen to know her?" the Original asked after a moment.

The old woman hummed and mischievously smiled at his question, "It would be truly unfortunate if I didn't."

Klaus grinned, his eyes twinkling under the lights of the chandeliers. "Where is she?"

____________________

The sun rays filtered through the white curtains as the wind blew it gently, bringing in beams of sunlight, illuminating the room. The light danced across a sleeping pair, hitting their forms covered in a sheet when the female opened her eyelids and was hit by a sudden onslaught of brightness.

"Close the drapes, Elijah," Adelia demanded and snuggled even deeper, hiding her face in his neck.

"I would if my wife stopped using me as her pillow. My arm has gone numb," Elijah chuckled, his fingers trailed down her spine, rousing her from sleep.