"Impossible. This cannot be happening." Elijah refused to believe his ears. The news that travelled through the closed doors of the fortress of the Mikaelson home had to be a lie. It was a lie, right?
"This is what I heard" responded Camille, her agitation clear in her voice. "Maeve really has..."
"Don't." Elijah pursued his lips. He raised a single finger in the air to silence the bartender slash psychologist. "She cannot have done that."
"Don't shoot the messenger." she raised her hands in the air defensively.
"But Maeve wouldn't do this."
"This is what I heard. Maeve has joined Francesca."
"Cami, this lady is solely responsible for several damages, one that also includes Niklaus's torment every full moon──not to mention the personal attack she's made on Maeve, rather foolishly twice. There is no way on earth that Maeve, of all people would join hands with her."
Camille forced a breath out her nostrils expressing her impatience. "Elijah I heard it from Francesca's bodyguard who was following me today. What more proof would you need to consider a possibility. I hate it just as much as any of you but this is what is happening."
Elijah sensed a presence in the compound. He hung his head low, but just an inch. "Cami, you should leave. I will look into the rumours myself. Take care of yourself."
With defeat and worry for what might be out the front door, Camille left. Elijah turned away and climbed the stairs immediately and approached his brother.
"What is happening? What is Maeve up to?"
"My knowledge is lesser than yours." Elijah expressed his defeat. He had to come to terms with a grave possibility. "I don't think I know Maeve anymore."
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A smile. Such a beautiful feature on a woman yet so haunting at times. Maeve sat by herself praying and meditating peacefully.
Only it didn't last long, interrupted by the loud wails of baby Hope Mikaelson. Maeve opened her eyes and smiled. She immediately got up and went over to the crib. Maeve lifted the young six month old girl in her arms and bopped her up and down cooing softly along.
"Is my little witch hungry?" asked Maeve in a funny way. Maeve sat Hope on her waist and walked into the kitchen.
Hope cried, her tiny hands fisting the loose strands of Maeve's hair. Maeve let out a yelp. "Okay young lady...I get it, Nik's strength is already in you." Maeve set her down on her high chair and freed her hair from Hope's grip.
Maeve prepared Hope's food and came back to the chair. She fed a small spoon of the porridge oats she made. Maeve gazed at Hope affectionately and smiled. Hope looked exactly like Hayley, but her eyes; they were those of her father's. Eyes which, if Maeve knew Klaus well, were burning with sorrow, frustration and anger. Some of which was for her, most of it for Hope.
