Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

207: The Hierarchy of Needs

a/n: Remember to comment and vote <3
(Also, today's technically MJ's birthday lol)

1919

"This is a bad idea."

"The line used at the start of every great adventure."

Two people were in a bedroom, a young man sitting at a table, while the woman rushed about the space, collecting ingredients and chucking them in front of him. Not a confidence-inspiring list; poison, black sand, four candles, moulding roots, glistening smooth, and black jade stones. All screaming dark magic and death.

"This isn't a great adventure, Lillian," He frowned, "This is acting rashly."

The room was normally neatly organised, sleek wooden furniture suitor the style of the home, large windows giving a perfect view in for any watchers. Reminding the pair that while her parents may be lenient with his callings, they were not to abuse the situation, a picture of Lillian's grandmother watching over them from the bookshelf. Many pictures. Family photos across the wall; happiness across generations.

"That's the best way to act, Tom," Lillian grinned, finally stilling, "The spirits are right there!"

"And we respect them."

The wallpaper was a careful selection of patterns, pale pink tinted red on white, red-wood furniture almost like a dollhouse in Tom's eyes. Pillows on the desk chair, frilly edges perfectly puffed by the servants, only to be squashed by them now, bed freshly made but not touched unless they both wished to answer an intense myriad of questions later that day.

"And we give them their space."

Lillian used the sand to draw a circle over the table, "Because our ancestors are going to do anything to The Regent's daughter?"

"They may need your mother, but that doesn't mean they owe you anything."

"My grandmother is one of them."

"And she does not need a visitor disturbing her peace."

"Well – "

"You know she is peaceful," He reminded her, "Since her passing, your whispers have ceased."

"Meaning they like her. They like my mother."

A mother who was out, the city of New Orleans bustling around them, sun shining through the glass as a few people enjoyed the street, the walkers taking in the weather with a smile. Pets and young children creating just enough noise to keep it from being too perfect of a scene, birds more active than they usually were.

"Therefore," She brushed down her dress, "They will treat me well."

Tom didn't look convinced, noticing the dust on her hands.

"They hurt me," Lillian lit the candles, equidistance around the circle, "They'll lose her."

He had to give her that.

"And my mother isn't doing anything," Lillian pleaded, "People are dying, Tom."

He looked at the ceiling.

"The vampires say it's us. We say it's them – regardless, it's going to end badly."

"The Axeman is a human problem."

"It's a witch one – I swear it."

"Lil – "

"He's evaded human capture too easily to be one of them. I surveyed the wolves during his last strike, the vampires the one before – someone in the community is doing something, and I need to know why."