Don't Fear The Reaper | Elijah Mikaelson

Daylight

Elijah wasn't particularly fond of the bayou. Disregarding the entrenched scent of the lycanthropes, with fear and hate seamlessly merging, the humidity and stifling heat were a potent deterrent. But Kenner would accept meeting with him only in the heart of his domain. Terribly suspicious he would be assassinated by the Original vampire if found elsewhere. So, he acclimated. 

Elijah is honestly bewildered with the Alpha's reservations. Would a change in venue truly prevent him from executing a target? 

The Crescent pack's power outside of the full moon is a laughing stock. For now, that is. The danger of the elusive ring prompts his proactive approach to destroying all opposition.  Under normal circumstances, he would be well on his way to complete extermination. However, the kinship shared with Hayley and her child is a powerful block. 

Thinning out the herd and eliminating rowdy troublemakers is sufficient. 

"It has to be the witches." 

Jackson predictably blamed the covens for his packmates' recent disappearances. A theory Elijah was more than willing to support. 

"They were in fact magical footprints near Oliver and John's last known locations. And rumors are circulating in the grapevine, that the wolves are responsible for Genevieve's death. It seems logical that they've retaliated." 

The Alpha glared at the heep of wooden logs he just finished stacking. His distrust of the vampire, overshadowed by the valuable information offered to him on a silver platter. 

"That had nothing to do with us. The witches are always having turf wars. For all we know, it was Vincent or that new elder that showed up out of the blue. She replaced Monroe. Probably didn't flinch at killing her to make it happen." 

Elijah retained his mask, processing the emotion originated allegation. Naturally, he fed both sides conflicting reports to stoke the animosity between them. Aggression bubbled over and lead to violent outbursts, which hid his long term goals quite beautifully. 

Although, the new French Quarter leader Freya was a new variable. It was too strange a coincidence that she arrived in New Orleans, days after he noticed her and Kol conversing in secret. Plotting perhaps. His younger brother strutted back into the compound after the vanishing debacle, without the barest explanation and excepted no reprimanding or questioning from his beloved family. 

He was owed some faith, Kol appealed to his empathy. He granted him leniency on the surface level. Darker thoughts remained swirling deep down. Finn, the more favored suspect was himself conveniently cloaked. By whom and for what purpose? 

The complex web of alliances and betrayals enthralled him, despite being the bane of his existence. 

Elijah's gaze drifts to the lone figure standing in the distance, masked somewhat by the tress. The silhouette nudges forwards. His blood turns cold as he identifies the person. 

Jackson calls him back to the realm of the living, and the vampire breaks free from his trance. 

He's certain they speak longer on the subject of incoming war, but Elijah's too mentally preoccupied with the screams of guilt and madness in his mind. 

His brother's spirit was watching. Lying in wait to witness his own fall. Nothing less than what he deserves.

***

Camille cautiously opened the door to her apartment. She had received no visitors for days and barely went out outside.

All her focus was spent perusing through ancient grimoires from her family's confiscated contraband collection to try and figure out a cure for her uncle.