The Originals Prefrences And Imagines

A Thousand Years (Part Four) 1k!!!

(Y/b/s means your birth season, or the season you were born in and Y/b/d is your birthday)

"I don't understand," Freya exclaimed, she was shaking, she had so much stress rushing through her, "Nothing I do is working."

"Calm down, sister," Elijah approached her slowly he grasped her shoulder softly.

But the witch flinched away.

"I WILL NOT!!"

She exclaimed, then she froze, she seemed shocked by her sudden outburst.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Freya sobbed, "She's just not waking up!"

The vampire pulled his sister into his arms and rubbed her back softly.

"You will find a way, Freya, you are one of the most powerful witches to ever exist," he soothed the blonde, "You will wake her but you need to rest."

"I slept last night," Freya pulled back, rubbing her eyes.

"For only a few hours," Elijah rolled his eyes, "and from what our brother has told me you passed out in his arms."

"And now I am rested," The witched returned to your sleeping body, "and I need to wake my sister."

Elijah sighed, realising he wasn't going to get anywhere with the blonde so he simply let return to work.

"It's strange," Freya frowned, "the magic report I get from her reminds me of what one witch told me long ago."

"And what was that?" He padded beside her and looked over your body.

"Dahlia was strong, so strong that there was no way to counter the spell unless the user was awake," Freya frowned, "and even that took great strength, it was difficult to separate myself from her when I did but when I was asleep it was impossible. So that got me thinking, what if what is happening is that. Dahlia isn't so strong that her spell would last forever but it will go until it is due to finish."

"So you think there is a certain amount of time until Y/n wakes," Elijah's eyes went wide.

"Yes, I do," Freya looked down at you, "and now we just have to wait it out."
-----------------------

Marcel wondered into the compound. He heard the groans of Klaus under the floor. It had been two years since he had run the Mikaelson's out. He knew it had been the right choice but part of him felt disgusted by his behaviour.

He had just stolen that little girl's family, her father. He knew what it was like to grow up without a father, to only just have a mother and he had probably endangered Hayley's life.

He didn't know how she would handle without the Mikaelson's to protect her. Those thoughts kept him up at night but he spent more time thinking about one Mikaelson in particular. No, it wasn't one he held captive.

It was Rebekah. Her perfectly styled blonde waves and her soft pale skin. He craved her, he thought about her whenever he was with a woman. He missed everything about her, even her voice, he'd always loved her accent.

When they all disappeared a part of him expected her to stay, a lot of him desperately wanted her to stay. But what did he expect? He had her brother in his basement, his guys had poisoned her sister and he'd bitten her other brothers.

She'd probably went to raise the child with Hayley, she had always wanted a child, a family. Another heartbeat flared suddenly and Marcel frowned.

He heard shallow breaths, he followed them into a room, there in the middle of it held a coffin. He heard scratching as someone or something tried to escape.

"Whatever you are, stop moving," he called.

The breaths sped up and so did the heart but the noises stopped.

"Good, I'm going to open the lid," he warned, "If you attack me, you will regret it."

Marcel slowly lifted the lid to see a small girl who looked petrified. She clothes were pristine but were from another era. She had bright e/c eyes that darted around.

"Where am I?" She had a smooth British accent that shocked Marcel.

Why were you here? Who had put you here? He looked over you, you couldn't be more than 13.

"You're in New Orleans, Sweetheart," Marcel reached out and helped you out, "Do you know how you got her?"

"New Orleans?" Your head tilted to the side and you looked confused, "I've never heard of anywhere called New Orleans."

Marcel frowned, he remembered that Freya girl who had slept for a hundred years. Maybe that's what had happened here.

"Do you remember what year was is when you were put to sleep?" Marcel asked.

"We...don't track years," You frowned at him, "It was the Winter?"

"Well, I think it's been a long time since then," Marcel sighed.

He knew you needed someone to look after you, and he assumed it would probably would have to be him. He liked kids and he couldn't imagine you walking out into the twenty-first century alone.

"I'm Marcel," he smiled at you, "Can you tell me how old you are?"

"I am Y/n," You gave him a respectful nod, "and in the (Y/b/s) I will be ten and two years of age."

"Do you have a birthday?" Marcel  asked.

"A birthday?"

Marcel looked down at his phone, it was Y/b/d.

"Well its Y/b/s now," He gave you a smile, "So how about today?"

You frowned.

"Does that mean I will be staying with you?" Your head tilted to the side.

"I think that would be smart," He flashed you a grin.

"Just a warning, sir, I am not in the slightest bit an ordinary child," You looked down, "You may want to rethink your decision."

"And what's so extraordinary about you, Y/n?" He smirked.

"I am a witch," You sighed, "A quite powerful one actually."

He was reminded of Davina and he gave you a sad smile, "Well, I happen to like witches."

He stood up and motioned for you to follow him and you did.

"And I'm a vampire."

"What's a vampire?"

"You must be really old if your before vampires," he frowned, "Probably a thousand years...."