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Chapter Two: Alone

                                                                                       Autumn 1001

It was nightfall when I left my house. Blood still lingered on my lips and I brushed it away angrily as tears fell from my eyes. My mother was no where to be found and I feared she found the same fate as my brothers and father. Louis, my father's second in command, came rushing to me, catching me as I flung myself in his arms, sobbing. Through my tears I explained to him the scene in my house, leaving out the fact I tore my father's throat open after the blood fueled a frenzy I was to weak to resist. Louis couldn't speak but guided me to his home. On the porch I hesitated. Would they be in danger as well? Would they all be dead after I stepped into their home? Louis sensed my hesitation and looked down at me, holding me to his side gently.

"Please, Moira?" He cooed. "Please come inside. You have no home now." At his gentle pull, I stepped into the house and let him and his family envelope me in his care.

Only after bathing and giving me fresh clothes, did they explain what happened. Esther and her family were gone. She's created monsters and the Pack forced them away. It hurt my heart to hear this, but the note Nicklaus left had hinted as much. I excused myself from their table and went to the back room they cleared their little ones from. The sun was beginning to rise, but I couldn't bear the thought of going to where they lived during the day. Eventually I knew I had to go, I had to see it empty for myself. I slept on and off through the day, my dreams bringing me memories of my Nik and his family.

Once night fell, I took a walk through the community to clear my mind, somehow ending up in front of their hut. I hesitated before going inside. Old memories greeted me and I could almost see them here but it was empty and ravaged on the inside. I was nudging through the rubble, trying to find anything to remind me of my friends and my family that I loss. Though the entire house, enveloped me in the Mikaelsons, Niklaus' scent was blatantly different than the others; now where was a wolf undertone and in those moments all I craved was to have him here with me. Sketches and paintings were under his bed. A few of of them were of me and a few of were his family. Among them were a note and a ring.

Moira, my love, wear this always and you'll have nothing to fear from anyone. I'll find you again my love. I am yours to have always and forever.

N. M.

I slipped on the ring, while my tears merged the words on the page. Memories of his laugh, smile and touch floated behind my eyes and I couldn't help but love him even more at the moment. When I was done reminiscing about Niklaus, I set their hut on fire and watched it burn, taking any trace of them with it.

Rome 1315

I haven't aged a day since 1001. Stories of the Mikaelsons haunted me everywhere I went. Their horrors and crimes against nature leading me question if I ever really knew them at all. Did I still love Niklaus despite this? I wasn't sure. But I knew I did ache to see him again. The ring and the notes he left remained with me always.

Time has flown by in ways I can't describe. I've gone where ever the wind's blown me. In Rome, 1309, Pope Clement moved the popacy to Avignon. Curious of this political move, I ventured to Rome to see what it was like. Women were still not respected as they should be so I begged a family to let me stay with them. Knowing what I was, I compelled them to let me feed as I wish and forget soon after. Their blood sang to me every time I came back and it was always a four course meal.

Things didn't stay perfect for very long. The more time I spent in Rome, the more it became apparent the city would be on the decline. Rumors were being spread. Vampires were starting to be hunted. Every house being questioned. People were starting to drink vervain. A few vampires were staked. The city was going to reach a boiling point and soon. Not excited to be here for when it happened, I erased my foster family's memory of me and took to the sea.

Paris 1706

As I sat still for a portrait, my fiancé's had lingered on my shoulder. I couldn't keep up the grin I had for long and though my back aches from the corset I was wearing, the pain in my heart was heavier. Jacque, my fiancé, was a prominent a lawyer, just like his father, in the heart of Paris. We met at a gala of sorts and he'd been taken with me from the start. To me, he was nothing in compared to the memory of Niklaus.

But it's been over 700 years and despite whispering up the grape vine, I'd heard nothing back. He'd either moved on or had forgotten about me. Once this realization hit me back in 1694, I made it my mission to find someone else to love and care for. I was done waiting for Niklaus.

And then along came Jacque. I, at first, only took him as a pity distraction, but he surprised me. He'd kept his vampirism a secret until I caught him feeding on one of his servants. We soon grew close as we shared what it's been like for us. I was much older than he, of course. He'd only been turned 10 years or so ago. While we bonded over our secret, everyone else took that as a sign of intimacy and before I knew it; we were engaged.

It's meant to be a long engagement, seeing as how I'm finishing school, but Jacque's father is itching to get us married. I won't be able to stall much longer. He talks about grandkids relentlessly. Neither Jacque nor I have the heart to tell him, he'll never get any.

The painter adjusted his canvas and looked up. I stole a glance upward and gave my fiancé a smile. Although, I didn't love him, he made a great companion and his company was preferable to the might walkers that lurked in the sewers. He returned one with an equally beautiful grin and I couldn't help but feel guilty. I didn't love Jacque, but I wasn't going to be alone forever.

After another long duration of painting, he leaned down and kissed my cheek. "I'm starting to get hungry, dear," he whispered. "Have a drink with me." He bit earlobe gently and I shivered. I may not feel anything more than fondness for him, but he knew me, and my body, well. I smiled and licked my lips.

"I thought you'd never ask," I said, getting to my feet to stretch. I tore my ridiculous wig from my head and together, we descended on the painter.

New Orleans, 1902

Jacque and I eventually got tired of each other. He turned someone else, claiming to have fallen in actual love, and I, for the lack of anything better to do, left. It was time for a new continent. So it was off to America. I had heard that New Orleans was up and coming; which meant lots of people coming in and out, freedom to do as I please, not that I ever lost that, and a new sense of life, of starting over on my own terms.

I found a place in the city and compelled an industrial worker to let me live with him. He'd pay the rent and let me feed, and I'd protect him. Unbeknownst to me before I moved here, several vampires and werewolves lived here as well. They were in a constant fight over who had control of the city. I'd do well to make sure I had a place I could stay that was as neutral as it could be.

One night, I was taking a stroll through the town, admiring my new home and the progress it was making, when I found a young woman crying in the alley, her neck bleeding. The blood stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't stop myself. The smell of her blood was sweeter than any flower, more luring than any siren, more compelling than any vampire. I was on her in a second, relishing the taste of her blood on my lips.

I, however, had barely begun to enjoy myself when I was torn and thrown away from her.

I stood my ground and bared my fangs, daring whomever deemed it a good idea to lay a hand on me to try again. I expected to find someone else cowering in fear, instead, a handsome man, seeming made from pure chocolate stood before me. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"No, ma'am. We don't take anyone else's meal here. This is going to be my city," he said with a smirk. "I'm going to be king."

I rolled my eyes and strutted up to him, relaxing my canines, wanting to toy with this boy. "And does this king have a name?" He watched me with dark brown eyes before smiling, allowing a dimple to be shown. He reached out and took my hand before bringing it to his lips.

"Marcel Gerard. Welcome to New Orleans."