Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FANTASY. xii. dance back from the grave ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
MOIRA WAS NO STRANGER to death, to grief. However, she hadn't experienced it enough times to grow used to the feeling. There were people who say that the more you experienced pain, the more your own pain would begin to fade. They say that somewhere along the way you'll lose the energy to care. Moira didn't believe any of it. Telling by the way she had been feeling for the past few days due to Davina's passing – the guilt that weighed her down, the hurt that drew a tear into her heart, the anger that boiled within her veins — Moira didn't think she'd ever be able to feel numb to type of pain. Quite frankly, she wasn't entirely sure that she'd want to even if she was given the chance.
Most of the time, when people grow numb, whether it's by drowning their emotions in booze and drugs or by default, they happen to do things they often come to regret. What made them feel better in the moment was just that – only fleeting. It was one of those moments that people mistaken as a necessity to their grieving process. But, it all only results in greater amounts of distress when they come back to their right minds and realize they've only complicated things further. And Moira wanted nothing to do with any of it. So, unlike most, she'd always try and do her best to be open with her mourning, to let the pain out. Because the last thing she wanted was to bottle it all up only for it to come rushing out in the most horrid of ways.
She hadn't failed to notice the way Marcel had been affected by Davina's death. Just the other day, she'd walked past him in the study sulking in his own pain and bourbon. He obviously was affected the most out of all of the witnesses of the Harvest, right alongside Sophie Deveraux. It finally became clear to Moira once and for all that the vampire truly did care for the young witch, loved her in a sense. Unfortunately, it had taken such a tragic twist of fate for Moira to come to the realization.
After cleaning herself up for the day, Moira decided to begin wandering the halls in search for either one of the Mikaelsons. She wanted to take a trip around the city, find either Josh or Camille. They weren't familiar with one another, but Davina was. Therefore, they must've heard the unfortunate news by now, and there was no way they weren't in some way devastated. Moira had barely known her, and she wanted to shed a tear each time she'd walk past the young witch's bedroom. Moira wanted to speak to one of them, if not both, and get a sense of how they were to show them that she was there if they needed another friend during a time such as this one. But, due to Elijah's strong statement that she isn't to leave the compound without an Original by her side, she couldn't do so until she found one to take her.
Sure enough, she found the suited vampire leaving Davina's bedroom. She didn't bother asking why he'd been in there, figuring it wasn't her business. "Elijah?" Moira approached him.
Elijah greeted her with a gentle smile. "Moira." He addressed the girl with his usual calm demeanor. "How are you?"
She didn't see the point in lying. "As good as can be, given the circumstances." The brunette replied, the Original nodding in agreement as they began to walk down the corridor side by side. "What about you? I saw how hard you worked to ensure Davina's safety, the disappointment in your eyes when she didn't awake. You were growing quite fond of her, Elijah."
