'love?' when you live as long I have, 'love' is a surprisingly rare occurrence, something that many would have given up on. Yet, as I look into the eyes of the man in front of me - his innocent blue eyes filled with hope of what life holds and fear...
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The Wickery Bridge?
Mikaelson mansion
Isabella stormed into the Mikaelson mansion, calling out for her big brother Klaus. "Klaus!!" she shouted, urgency lacing her voice. As Klaus approached, she wasted no time in relaying her discovery. " Klaus, I know what they're up to," she began.
"What?" Klaus inquired, his interest piqued by Isabella's revelation.
"Sage tried going inside my mind," Isabella explained, her tone laced with determination.
"But little did she know I went inside her head," Isabella continued, her words carrying a note of triumph.
Isabella proceeded to recount her findings. An old tree stood tall and proud, its gnarled branches reaching out like ancient fingers, adorned with leaves that whispered tales of centuries past. Its trunk, weathered by time and elements, bore scars of battles long forgotten, while its roots delved deep into the earth, anchoring it firmly to the land it had called home for generations. Despite its age, the tree exuded an aura of strength and resilience, a silent witness to the passage of time and the ever-changing world around it.
"They know what we're up to," she concluded, a sense of urgency coloring her words. "The white oak tree and there was some bridge," she added, Isabella's voice faltered slightly as she mentioned the bridge, her words tinged with uncertainty. The image of the bridge seemed to hover in her mind, casting a shadow of unease over her thoughts. It was as if the bridge represented a crossing point, a threshold between the known and the unknown, beckoning her to venture into uncharted territory, her mind racing as she processed the implications of her discovery.
"The Wickery Bridge?" Klaus questioned, his brow furrowing in contemplation.
Isabella's eyes widened with realization.
"The entire bridge is constructed from the white oak tree," Rebekah's voice interjected, confirming Isabella's suspicions. The revelation sent a chill down her spine, the significance of the bridge now unfolding before her. It was not just any bridge; it was a tangible link to their past, a connection to the very essence of their existence as vampires.
"We should destroy it," Isabella asserted, her tone firm and resolute. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air as they contemplated the necessary steps to safeguard their interests.
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(A/N - And then Rebekah goes to burn the white oak tree wood just like the series, which I am not going to write about.)
