Abominations | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Pretend Everything's Alright

Marcel called her. Davina had been shunned and at that moment, nothing else matter. She just wanted to save her, from the fate she had endured so long ago.

She noticed Vincent sitting on a bench outside of Rousseau's and she could guess, who he was watching. "What happened?" she asked him.

He sighed, running a hand over his forehead. "She got shunned" he confessed she could hear his heart racing, worried about what she was going to do next. "Andrea, you got gotta understand, she initiated a massacre they would of -"

"You know that coven shunned me," she said interrupting him, with a sorrowful smile. "My sister ... she saw something of me, of this," she said, letting a slight hint of red magic flicker in her hand. "Fear is ... the worst thing. They shunned me and tried to murder me. So I ran" she explained.

"You don't want that for her" he realised.

"I don't want that for anyone" she retorted. "The French Quarter Coven is fucked" she declared, standing up. "Maybe you should think about who you aline yourself with," she told him, walking away, to leave him to ponder.

She slipped through the door of Rousseau's managing to avoid Davina noticing her. She smiled at the bartender before sitting next to her.

Davina was twirling a staw around and she shifted away slightly when she realised who she was. "What do you want?" she asked, she sounded truly pissed. Done with everything. But she was too determined to accept that as the answer.

She pulled the glass away from her. "For one, you're not old enough to be here, drinking this," she said, taking a sip of the cocktail but it was too sour for her liking. "And for two, Vincent is too scared to have this conversation, so I will," she said, holding a hand out to the witch.

Davina just glared at her but she didn't have any plans to leave, anytime soon. It took a while, but she finally gave in taking her hand and getting up. She squeezed the girl's hand and guided her out of the bar.

The cold night breeze never affected her anymore but she could see Davina shivering and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Even the slightest bit of physical comfort made Davina visibly relax.

As they walked down bourbon street, the witch finally had the bravery to speak. "Where are we going, Andrea?" she sighed.

"On a walk" she replied, she had a story she needed to tell someone and she needed somebody to hear it. And at that moment, there was no one better than Davina, to hear her out. After all, things only got better for her.

She knew Davina was getting antsy when they finally reached the top of the hill.

There was a slight hum of music, in the distance. And the streets of New Orleans looked as beautiful as they did so many years ago. The glimmering lights hanging from the buildings lit up the streets, and the people walking below, walked hand in hand. A few, wandering lost.

It was as alluring as it was, ever so many years ago. "I stood on top of this hill, eight years ago," she declared, drawing Davina's attention. "I got a taxi, I only had a bag of clothes, my phone and a grimoire I spent years writing spells in. That was all I had" she said, sorrowfully.

She was left with nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"I was shunned" she confessed.

That made Davina's breath hitch. "What?" Davina asked, in surprise.

She nodded more to herself than the witch. "My sister had a vision," she explained to her, digging her hands into her pockets. "She saw my destroying New Orleans, and becoming this. And in a panic, she ran to the witches, telling them what she had seen. They shunned me for it" she explained, leaning against the barrier. "And they shunned her too."