𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, Klaus Mikaelson
"I've been infatuated with you since the beginning."
"I know."
𝐈n which Klaus Mikaelson makes a friend during the five years he spent in a dungeon.
𝐎𝐫
𝐈n which River Creed, the first of her kind, is curious as to...
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Prologue
Long, brown, and dirty hair was being tangled in the chains that surrounded her neck. They were put there by the self proclaimed king— Marcel Gerard.
Positioned in the courtyard of the Mikaelson mansion, a centuries old home, she was thrown to her knees by vampires— mere lackeys to an inferior king. What this man called power was nothing compared to the strength of the girl. She found it ironic, the power they thought they held.
"River Creed, first fabrikator. I'm accusing you of genocide. How do you plead?"
She audibly scoffed at the king's arrogance, earning a look of amusement. She appearedto be in no position of power, and still held an attitude.
"I'm guilty, Marcellus. We all know this trial is a show of power. How you took me down." It was stated with pure confidence, something the king found irritating. He delivered a blow to her already purple skin, daring her to fake confidence again.
Her confidence was not faked.
He only then realized the name she had stated, Marcellus. She smirked up at him, as if reading his thoughts. "Your mind is quite interesting to peek through, Marcellus. If only it wasn't so small, we could've been king and queen."
Marcel, having enough of her, called over a couple of vampires, "Take her to the dungeon. Keep them separate."
And so, the girl with long, brown, dirty hair was dragged off once again, only this time she had no clue where she was going, or who she was supposed to be separate from.
