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❝ death is the mother of beauty. ❞
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THE WOMAN DIES.
She dies to provide a plot twist. She dies to develop the narrative. She dies for cathartic effect. She dies because no one can think of what else to do with her. She dies because there weren't any better story ideas around. She dies because her death was the very best idea that anyone could come up with.
I've got it! Let's kill her off!
Yes! Her death will solve everything!
Okay! It's time to call it a night!
And so, the woman dies. The woman dies so the man can be sad about it. The woman dies so the man can suffer. She dies to give him a destiny. She dies so he can fall into the dark side. She dies so he can lament her death. As he stands there—brimming with grief, brimming with life—the woman lies there in silence. The woman dies for him. We watch it happen. Every single time. We read it happen. Every single time. We come to know it all too well.
"Cami?" A distant voice called out, earning no response. "Camille." A hand suddenly came into view, snapping cautiously. "Are you okay?"
Cami blinks back into reality to find Enola standing with a look of concern. She arrived at the compound early this morning after a dreadful encounter with Lucien. Unfortunately she did not make it out unscathed. A horrid looking bite mark marred the delicate skin of her forearm. She had been unable to comprehend what happened after then. All she knew is that there was no cure. Even so, she still found herself stumbling into the compound with tear-stained cheeks. She couldn't exactly show up to the nearest hospital when there was absolutely nothing they could do. She wanted to spend her last few moments with family. The only family she had known for the past three years.
"Yeah," Cami cleared her throat after a long moment before sparing the bite mark on her arm a quick glance as if contemplating her next words. "Considering."
Enola shared a look of worry with Hayley before Klaus and Freya stepped into the room. The death of Jackson and Finn had damaged them greatly. Cami was going to be the last nail in the coffin. Because one way or another, she was a Mikaelson. She protected them, she fought for them, she loved them—it was only fair they did the same. Not because they saw it as a favor, but because that is what family does.
"Hold still," Klaus instructed sternly. "This is going to burn."
Klaus stiffly took the spot on the couch beside Cami. He had tried to seem as stoic and unafraid as possible, but she could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that this was just as painful for him. He avoided eye contact as he dipped a cloth into the jar of paste before setting it aside. He gently grabbed her by the arm before applying pressure to the wound with the cloth. She immediately winced, but held still all the same.
