Of Longing Hearts & Twisted Fates I Mikaelson Mate

Oh Come All Ye Witches

Finding a witch proved to be a lot harder than Elijah had originally excepted. In short, it was a seemingly impossible task.

The small village of Derrynane was many things - charming, quiet, remote, close to the ocean - but it certainly wasn't a place you'd find an entire witch circle, let alone one. When he and Kol stepped into a small, bustling pub located at the village centre called The Banshees Corgi, they were greeted by a crowd of laughing and singing patrons. A middle-aged woman with long, dark brown hair, dressed in traditional Irish clothing consisting of a léine* and brat**  was rushing from table to table, balancing a tray filled with alcoholic beverages in her hands. The two Originals sat down on the only remaining table in the corner of the pub and even though she seemed to be incredibly busy, it didn't take the waitress long to notice the two handsome men and approach them with a friendly smile.

"Ah, if these aren't two fine things blessin' me sore eyes at such a late hour," she exclaimed with a heavily accented voice. Her eyes fell on their dripping clothes and she gave them a pitiful glance. "You poor sods. Drenched like a cat that just fell into the river." Her eyes moved to the window behind them, looking outside into the night before she sighed. "Ah, it's been bucketin' down all evenin', isn't it? Worst rainfall we had in months. But as my mhamó used to say, sometimes the dear Lord just needs to take a good piss." She laughed awkwardly before her eyes moved back to the two men in front of her. "Sorry, got carried there away for a second. What can I get you two?"

Kol gave her his most seductive smile before he grabbed her hand and leaned closer, his brown eyes boring into her green ones, pupils dilating.

"You can sit down with us for a while, darling," he compelled her. She did as told without hesitating and sat down on the free chair next to Kol, who still smiled at her. "Would you mind telling us your name, darling?"
"Elsie," she replied. "Me name is Elsie O'Callaghan."

"Well, Elsie, what can you tell us about this village? Are there any witches here?"

"Depends on who you ask," Elsie replied after a few seconds of silence. "Some say the O'Sullivan lass is one."

Elijah's head jerked up in interest.

"O'Sullivan?"

Elsie nodded.

"Strange lass, I'll tell you. Lives all alone in her mhamó's cottage on top of a cliff not far from here. Rarely ever shows her face here or speaks to anyone."

Elijah's face fell. Elsie must be speaking about their mate who they already concluded was in fact not a witch. He looked at the woman sceptically, not sure if she understood that they were looking for a real witch.

"I see," Kol said, voice laced with disappointment that this promising lead had turned out to be a bummer. "Anyone else acting strange around these parts?"

Elsie seemed to contemplate for a second before she shook her head.
"No. Everyone else goes to church every Sunday."

Kol's brows furrowed as he wondered what being religious had to do with witchcraft. It took him a moment to realise that this was probably a dig at the old, ridiculous superstition that all witches were worshipping the devil and thus were unable to set foot on holy ground.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. This interrogation was going nowhere. Elsie knew nothing. How could she? She was just a stupid mortal. He wasn't even sure why he decided to interrogate her in the first place. Maybe it was because she seemed to one of those people that knew everyone around the village. If there was truly a witch circle located here in such as small village, even stupid mortals like her should have noticed something, anything. Seemed like the witch circle got disbanded sometime between the eighteenth century and now. It was truly a shame that their phone services all seemed to have died when they jumped from Mystic Falls to Derrynane or Niklaus or Elijah could have simply called one of their many witch contacts.