Darkness I Became

Chapter 4: Gallery of Broken Hearts

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, life and stuff lol. It's a short update but I just thought I'd post it so there's some kind of update before I finish the next chapter. The chapter title comes from Ingrid Michaelson's "Be Ok". Oh and big thanks to red lightning on fanfiction.net for the bouncing of ideas for this and the next chapter too. :)

Chapter 4: Gallery of Broken Hearts

Three years, six days, ten hours, and forty-five minutes ago NiKlaus Mikaelson watched in awe from the side wall of the church the witches had him pinned to as the greatest, most precious miracle entered his life – his daughter Hope Andrea Mikaelson. Despite the tragedy and trauma surrounding her birth, Hope was everything he never knew he should have wished for.

It had been far too long since he'd laid eyes on his daughter – she had only been six months old and already so beautiful. Rebekah had been right in saying the child looked like her mother – Hope was the spitting image of the wolf who gave birth to her and was so prematurely ripped from the world.

It killed him to be away from his littlest wolf – he honestly didn't think he'd ever loved anyone with this much sincerity that wasn't himself.

He'd once told Elijah (more than once actually) that love was a vampire's greatest weakness. For a thousand years, Klaus truly believed that all he would ever need in this world was himself – that no one could ever be trusted enough to hold close.

All that changed the day he wandered into the Lockwood house in Mystic Falls to taunt his first hybrid some more and instead found the brunette wolf hiding like a guilty mistress. Over time, Hayley had reflected many of the things he found in himself – mistrust, anger, the will to survive, and most of all . . . loneliness. Scotch (and gin, tequila, and vodka) may have fueled their lust that night but Klaus wasn't naïve enough to believe that he hadn't enjoyed the she-wolf's company before that alcohol and the months that followed after as she carried their child in his home. The moment he lay eyes on his daughter and finally held her in his arms, it was clear how much the littlest wolf and her mother truly meant to him.

None of that mattered now, as it was. Hayley was dead and Klaus was tasked with raising their daughter alone. Forever alone . . . a song that was proving particularly old.

Much had changed in the three years as war raged on among the communities of New Orleans. The town had truly seen dark times, none that could ever truly compare to that of days, years, and centuries past.

None darker, however, than the foe the Mikaelson's, the town, and even the world now faced.

All seemed well in the Mikaelson compound, as it had appeared for months now. Elijah and Klaus, for all public appearance, were the best of brothers. No squabbles about manipulations, petty weaknesses, lack of restraint, or unnecessary violence. No struggle for control – a true democracy in the purest of terms. In fact, every night at precisely eight in the evening every occupant in the compound gathered at the large table in the expansive dining hall and ate the meal that was cooked and brought to them by the serving staff.

Precisely every second Saturday they threw some kind of extravaganza in the courtyard of the compound – most often benefitting one charity or cause or another, other times just simply to enjoy the company of the aligned citizens of the quarter. Everyone cheering and laughing and sharing stories – oh and drinking, of course.

Klaus was absolutely miserable.

Sure, everything appeared well on the surface. Sometimes they even pretended that everything was okay when they knew it wasn't. The reality, however, couldn't be any further from the dreaded blissful nightmare they were forced into. Their words and actions may represent this forced truth, but their thoughts were very well aware of what was really going on.