Vampire Diaries Imagines

A Quiet Refuge - Elijah Mikaelson

The cool New Orleans night air clung to Y/N's skin as she hurried through the French Quarter. Her hands trembled as she clutched the strap of her bag, her breaths shallow and quick. The faint ache in her arm and the sting of the cut above her brow reminded her of why she was walking to the one place she believed would be safe: the Mikaelson compound.

The imposing gates creaked open as she approached, and Y/N hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. She wasn't certain how her sudden arrival would be received. Elijah Mikaelson, she trusted without question, but Klaus...well, she couldn't be sure where she stood with him. Their relationship had been amicable at best, but she wasn't naïve enough to assume his hospitality came without conditions.

Her knuckles rapped softly against the massive wooden door, and within seconds, it swung open. Elijah's ever-calm and collected face greeted her, his lips curving into a small, welcoming smile.

"Y/N," he said warmly, but his tone shifted as his sharp eyes took in her disheveled state. The bruises along her arm, the dried blood tracing a path from the cut above her eyebrow, and the split lip that was starting to swell-it all stripped away his composure. In a flash, he was by her side, his hand gently hovering near her arm, not quite touching her.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low but tinged with an urgency she wasn't used to hearing from him.

"I was walking home," she began, her voice soft, shaking. "I didn't think it was that late...someone grabbed me. I fought them off, but-" She swallowed hard. "I didn't feel safe going the rest of the way to my apartment."

Elijah's jaw clenched, but his eyes softened. "You made the right choice coming here," he assured her. "You're safe now."

Before she could respond, Freya entered the room, her expression shifting from curiosity to alarm as she saw Y/N. "Oh, sweetheart," Freya murmured, immediately stepping forward. "Come with me. Let's get those wounds cleaned up."

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Elijah, who gave her a slight nod of encouragement. Freya wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her deeper into the compound.

As they ascended the stairs, Klaus's figure appeared at the landing, descending toward them. His icy blue eyes locked onto Y/N, sweeping over her injuries. His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a look of something far more serious-concern. For a moment, she thought he might say something cutting or dismissive, but he merely stepped aside, giving Freya room to lead her past.

When Klaus reached Elijah, he stopped, crossing his arms. "Whoever dared to put her in such a state," Klaus said, his voice low and dangerous, "won't live to see another sunrise."

Elijah's brow furrowed. "We don't yet know who was responsible."

"Does it matter?" Klaus shot back, his gaze hard. "She's not the sort to seek trouble. Whoever attacked her deserves nothing less than a swift end."

Elijah nodded slightly, a silent agreement passing between the brothers.

Upstairs, Freya sat Y/N down on a plush chair in her room. She brought over a first aid kit, her movements gentle but efficient. "You've had a rough night," she said softly, dabbing at the cut on Y/N's brow with an antiseptic-soaked cloth. "But you're safe now."

Y/N smiled faintly despite the sting of the antiseptic. "Thank you, Freya."

Freya gave her a kind look. "We're family of sorts, aren't we? Anyone who matters to Elijah matters to us."

Y/N's heart warmed at the sentiment. The Mikaelsons were far from conventional, but if only for tonight, their home felt like the safest place in the world.