IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
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THIRD PERSON POV
CHAPTER 31
Morning sunlight gleamed across the prison courtyard, casting a warm glow on the row of newly placed raised beds. Hope stood at one of them, her hands glowing faintly with magic as she shaped the wood and reinforced it with small pulses of energy. Close by, Rick and Daryl hauled heavy bags of soil, their sleeves rolled up, sweat shining on their forearms.
Maggie hovered at the edge, grinning as she watched Hope's mischievous expression. "You look like you're up to something," Maggie teased, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk.
"Me?" Hope said, feigning innocence. She flicked her wrist, sending a couple of wispy tendrils of purple light drifting stealthily toward Rick and Daryl. The wisps danced along Rick's ear and twirled by Daryl's nose, making both men sneeze in near unison.
Daryl cursed under his breath, dropping his side of the soil bag. "What the—? Hope!" he growled, narrowing his eyes.
Rick swatted at the invisible irritant, blinking as though an insect had buzzed into his face. "Cut it out," he warned, though amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Hope shrugged, turning back to her garden bed with an overly sweet smile. "No idea what you two are talking about. Must be the wind."
Maggie let out a cackle, clearly enjoying the show. "You're something else," she told Hope. Then she raised her voice, calling over to the prisoners who were hauling soil in wheelbarrows. "You all right over there? We need a few more loads!"
Axel and Oscar shared an amused glance, still chuckling about Rick and Daryl's reaction. "We're on it," Oscar called back, pushing the next wheelbarrow load of soil closer. Big Tiny offered a lopsided grin in Hope's direction, as if half-expecting more magical pranks.
"Come on, princess," Daryl muttered, dropping to one knee to help break open another bag. "At least let us get the dirt in place before you go messin' with us."
Hope tilted her head, a playful gleam in her eyes. "But where's the fun in that?" Another flick of her wrist sent a fresh breeze of wisps toward Rick's ear, ruffling his hair.
"Okay, that's it," Rick said, tossing down the bag he was carrying with exaggerated care. "Maggie, hold the fort."
"Gladly," Maggie said, folding her arms and stepping back with a grin as Rick and Daryl stalked toward Hope.
Hope's eyes went wide, but she didn't back down. "You two are in no condition—" she began, only to yelp as Rick lunged. She spun, darting away with a laugh that rang across the courtyard, bounding around one of the half-finished garden beds.
Daryl slipped behind her, quick as ever, blocking her retreat. Before Hope could conjure any new trick, he snagged her wrist. "Not so fast, troublemaker," he growled, though his tone was far more amused than angry.
