After the near massacre of their family Elijah and Danhy left town and ran far from Mystic falls, but on Elijah's request they stayed close enough to be of use if any problem should arise. They had found a quaint little house on the outskirts of the town, it reminded Danhy of his home in 985, and he hated it. "It smells like old people in here!" he called down the stairs. Elijah rolled his eyes as he continued to flip through the box of old records he found collecting dust in the basement. He didn't mind the smell, but he couldn't say he enjoyed it either. "Perhaps you should open a window," Elijah sighed. He plucked a familiar record from the box and set it in the player, he dropped the needle onto the vinyl and listened as soft jazz filled the tiny living room. "Look what I found!" Danhy screeched excitedly as he stomped down the staircase, he held out a bottle of whiskey, a familiar brand they quiet enjoyed from the early 1900's. "I hope you don't plan on drinking that," Elijah said with a pointed look towards the bottle.
"Oh, don't be such a fuddy duddy, papa. I'm over a thousand years old, a little alcohol won't kill me,"
"regardless, you are still my son and as such your well being is my top priority,"
"One little drink with my papa while we listen to the soft hum of jazz wont be detrimental to my health," Danhy hoped off the bottom step and took a tentative step towards his father, holding out the bottle as if it would safe guard him from whatever emotional dribble his father decided to pour onto him this time. He loves his father, he really does, but there are only so many times he can listen to his father list off all of the reasons why he will forever be treated like a child before he gets the overwhelming urge to rip off his own ears.
"I'm not a little boy anymore papa, I'm a grown man." Elijah closed the short distance between them with a few long strides, he brought a hand up to grip his sons chin, tilting Danhy's head up in order to look him directly in the eyes. "You are not a grown man Danhy, you're sixteen, and you will always be my little boy," Elijah leant forward to place a gentle kiss to his forehead. He pulled back with a gentle smile, one only reserved for his family, "now, go fetch us some glasses." Danhy dashed into the kitchen before Elijah could change his mind. He flicked through all of the cabinets in the kitchen, one by one, but only found coffee mugs and plastic cups. Whoever the house belonged to before them didn't seem to understand the importance of good glassware, or air freshener for that matter. "It seems we'll have to settle with coffee mugs, Papa!" he called over his shoulder.
Danhy poured the amber liquid into two equally plain and boring mugs. He screwed the bottle cap back on before making his way back into the living room. Elijah had moved to the sofa in his absence, he was lounged back into comfortable embrace of the hideous, floral cousins. "Here you are," Danhy said handing his father the mug. Elijah took it gracefully, moving aside his legs so that Danhy could plop down beside him. "I know that look," Elijah smirked,
"What look?" Danhy asked innocently into his mug,
"That constipated look you get when you have something to say, but don't want to say anything,"
"I don't look constipated!" Danhy shrieked,
"Inside voice Danhy,"
"I don't look constipated," he said much calmer this time but his voice still held a hint of annoyance. Out of all of the things he expected to come out of his fathers mouth 'constipated' was not one of them. "I'm afraid you do, it's the same look your mother got when she was trying to hold her tongue," at the mention of his mother Danhy paused, casting a sorrow filled look towards his father but Elijah would not meet his eyes, he himself was staring far off into the distance as images of Astrid assaulted his mind.
"So, mama looked constipated all the time?" Danhy asked trying to lighten the mood. Elijah snorted suddenly, he shifted in the seat uncomfortably at having made such a sound.
"She didn't hold her tongue as much as you would like to think. Astrid loved to make her voice heard, especially when your grandfather was involved,"
"Mama stood up to Mikael?" Danhy asked, "Now I know your lying,"
"Your mother may have been small but she had the wit of a thousand men."
"You never told me how you two met," Danhy pulled his feet up onto the sofa, tucking his legs in close to his chest, a show of blind innocence he hasn't seen on Danhy in centuries. He took another tentative sip of his whiskey as he stared up at his father with large, unblinking eyes. Elijah shuffled around so that he could face Danhy. He set his cup down on the coffee table and relaxed back into the warm confines of the sofa. "We had seen each other in passing for many years," he started, "but the first time we spoke, we were twelve. There was a feast in the village square and everyone was dancing but I became bored and decided to go for a walk. I saw your mother picking wild flowers by the forest, she looked up at me, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen,"
"was that when you knew you were in love?" Danhy teased halfheartedly.
"No," Elijah chucked warmly "because the next thing out of her mouth was 'can I help you', she said it with such hatred, I had considered turning around and running,"
"why didn't you?" he asked. Danhy placed his now empty mug on the coffee table and leant back, trying to mimic his fathers relaxed stance but only managed to make himself look more tense, It was not as easy for him to relax when it was Astrid they were speaking of. Some days Danhy has trouble remembering what she looked like or how she smelt, if it were not for his own reflection he would even forget the color of her eyes.
"She looked upset," Elijah spoke after a long moment of silence, "like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, so I stayed, we sat and talked for hours before her mother came to fetch her. I begged her for weeks after to let me take her on a date, she refused every time."
"What made her change her mind?"
"She didn't change her mind, I gave her no choice. One morning I came to her door with a basket of fresh fruit I had persuaded Niklaus to help me pick. Her youngest sister answered, she was ecstatic to see that I had come. Cora demanded that Astrid go out with me and she did, but only to keep her sister quiet. After many months of perusing her she finally fell in love with me."
Elijah's face broke into a rare grin. It was nice to see him smile again and know that it had nothing to do with an evil plan or a fake romance that lasted long enough for Niklaus to get whatever it was he needed before they moved on again. "Enough stalling," Elijah said suddenly, "what is it you wanted to say?" Danhy sighed, slumping down further in the ugly sofa.
"Why are we here? Why aren't we back in Mystic Falls trying to help find grandmother and Uncle Finn?"
"It's too dangerous," was his response.
"Of course it's dangerous!" Danhy yelled, "we could all be killed at any moment but how is that any different from what we've been through the last thousand years?"
"Before it was us being hunted, Mikael made it very clear he would not harm you but Esther has made it her mission to kill all of us including you, and I will not let that happen."
"I can protect myself, papa, I'm not a child," Elijah opened his mouth to argue this but was cut off by Danhy's heated glare, "and don't give me your speech about how I'll always be your little boy. I'm over a thousand years old and you still make it your mission to coddle me. I know it was you who talked Uncle Nick into having Kol daggered when he got me drunk, it is you who has forbid me from attending any of the parties our family has thrown over the centuries, under the misconception that I am too young, and it is your fear that has kept me locked away my entire life, a fear we both know has no bounds. I have come to feel hatred for you over the years and I do not wish to hate you but you give me no choice sometimes." Danhy had stood during his speech, throwing his arms around wildly as he spoke. Feelings of hatred and hidden anger bubbling to the surface as words he has never spoken before pushed their way from his lips. Elijah stood in shock, he was unsure when he had moved to stand before his son but now that he was here he too could not seem to hold back his anger.
"My fear is not unfounded, there are those out there that want us dead, I am trying to protect you, and if that leads down the path of hatred than so be it but I will not lose another member of this family!" He yelled back.
A sound of pure rage emanated from deep within the teen vampire's chest. He could feel this anger riding up within him, pressing against the edges of his mind, looking for some sort of an escape and Danhy feared he could not hold it back any longer, he feared the anger would consume him and he was afraid of what it would make him do. He stormed past his father towards the front door, their shoulders brushing against each other. "Where do you think your going?" Elijah called after him.
"For a walk," Danhy gritted out. He pulled open the wooden door with such force that it broke from it's hinges and was thrown across the room into the staircase. He did not stick around long enough to see the damage left behind, he was already storming down the driveway, his hands tightly wound into fist at his side.
YOU ARE READING
The secret child
Non-FictionDanhy Mikaelson was only sixteen when his grandmother turned his entire family into vampires, at first, he was scared of the things he could do, scared of the horrible evil his family was committing at every turn but as time dragged on throughout th...
