Maeve Mikaelson

Chapter Thirty-One

*Maeve Miller*

She curled what remained of her hair. She was in a complicated up-do that was gorgeous. At that moment, she didn't look seventeen, if anything she finally looked as old as she felt.

Her fingers dipped in the jewelry box, filled with trinkets from her customers. She settled on a snake necklace, abandoning Elijah's for the first time in months. She did however, keep the bracelets she had received from Marcel. Her earrings were dangly, and she briefly wondered why she was even bothering with dressing up.

 If she were stronger, she would have told Ester to fuck off and had a movie night. Maeve was a coward, and she knew it. Ester had a power over her that's downright sad.

Maeve suddenly got the overwhelming urge to call Jenna, and immediately hated herself for it. She shouldn't latch onto every adult who showed her an ounce of affection, that was asking for disappointment.

She looked over at her cat, her only family at this point. Elijah was nice, but he wasn't reliable. No one was. If anything, Maeve trusted no one, she believed in them. She believed that one day Nik would finally become the man she could see, that Thierry would be happy with someone who truly loved him, and that Marcel would finally know peace for the first time in his life. She believed in the best of her world. The world didn't deliver, it never did.

She smoothed her dress and examined the final product. She looked great, and that almost overshadowed the shitty jeep she would be driving.

With those happy thoughts she walked out only to see a limo waiting for her.

"Miss Miller?" The man opened the door. "Mr Mikaelson sent me."

Maeve smiled. "Of course he did." Her dress had pockets, so she made sure she had enough for a tip at the very least. If he was compelled, he would get some money at the very least.

He opened the door and she slid in, happy that she wouldn't have to worry about driving. The car was smaller, and she looked at the drivers seat, examining the man in front of her. Nowadays, it felt like she had to examine everyone as a threat, and it was exhausting. 

She checked her phone as she had sent the New Orleans crew a picture. Thierry was showering her in compliments, Marcel however, was ready to make the trip to mystic falls to kill someone. Diego didn't really care, but he tried, and that's what mattered.

Maeve liked Marcel, he felt like family. He felt like her, and she was not letting that kind of connection go.

There was a line of cars, but Maeve was able to bypass all of them. Her driver helped her out, and she handed the man a fifty. He smiled brightly at her as she walked into the mansion.

She looked around for someone she knew and spotted some of her friends in groups. She resigned herself to the fact that the evening was likely going to be full of plots and decided that she would be safer alone.

A vampire appeared at her side. "I didn't expect to see you here." Damon looked down at her. "You look amazing." 

"Thank you." She took Damon's out-stretched arm. "And why? Is it because my least favorite mother is hosting?"

"Honestly," He leaned down. "I figured there would be some sinister plot in the works and you'd be avoiding it." 

"Why Damon, did you take the night off?" 

"Can I not attend a party hosted by my Arch-Nemesis?" Damon smiled innocently.

Maeve studied him. "You're here for Ester." 

Another hand found her waist as the second Salvatore joined. "I have to say Maeve, is it always this nerve-wracking when you meet the family?"

She turned into him and straightened his tie. "Oh I'm sure she'll love you. You fit all the criteria."