Back in Mystic Falls

35. Old Memories

Pairing: Klaus/Stefan (M/m) hand, ruler

Thank you to Phoenix_Queen and Jazmine F. for plot contributions and input.

"I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realizes an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past."
― Virginia Woolf

New Orleans, Louisiana

August 1855

Morning

Ilayda, the witch, had led Elijah and Marcel back to the French Quarter. Elijah felt torn. They were so close to their old home, but yet they could never go back here. For a time, the Mikaelsons had been very happy here. But the French Quarter witches had always despised them and done everything in their power to remove them. They had finally won.

"Look, Uncle, we are so close to home," Marcel whispered.

Elijah put a strong hand on Marcel's shoulder in the coach.

"I realize that, Marcellus, but we can never go back. It tis too dangerous," Elijah said. "That the witches could foul our memories is too frightening. If only we could access to witch sides, then we would be far from their...reach."

The old lady cackled, "Mother Nature finds a balance. You would be too strong. Your mere existence costs a heavy toll."

"Our need for blood?" Marcel asked.

"Aye," Ilayda replied. "But in the old country, I heard of a spell that can turn a blood drinker who was a witch into something more. Again, there would be a great cost."

"Hmm," Elijah said, looking out at the great city of New Orleans and thinking. "We were came to these shores, this was all swampland. Now, look at it."

The French Quarter was bustling and busy with commerce and life. Horse drawn street cars, workers, and children poured over the streets going about their business. The air was thick with humidity and the smells of the city.

Ilayda shut her eyes and crinkled the map with dried blood. Suddenly, her eyes flashed open.

"They are now. Stop the coach," Ilayda said as they passed the St. Charles Avenue Line street car. "You stay here. This is witch business. But I will need a vial of you blood, old one."

Elijah grimaced, but pulled out the glass vial of his blood out of his jacket. He ordered the coach to stop where the witch indicated.

"Please, we are placing great trust in you. We need the Bennett witch and her son. Do not fail us," Elijah murmured, handing it over.

Ilayda frowned causing the deep furrows in her brow to deepen.

"I never fail, sir. I have come here to bring our Orion Sama'el home, but there will be a cost," Ilayda pronounced.

"A pound of flesh," Marcel grumbled.

"Stay here. Do not move unless I call for you," Ilayda said, as the coachman opened the door and helped her out. She slipped the vial into her skirts and let him escort her old. There were in front of an old house that was much less grand than the compound that the Mikaelsons had build decades ago.

"Where are we? Royal Street and Dumaine Street? We must have passed this place a thousand times yet, I have never noticed it," Marcel said in awe.

"Perhaps it was hidden from our vampire eyes?" Elijah said, looking out at the pale green wooden structure. It was a curious styler of West Indian architecture two stories with several columns and a large veranda enclosing the front. "I have never noticed it either. Witches are rather clever, are they not?"