Being the last witch of her kind, Lena Ricci has been protected by Rebekah Mikaelson her whole life.
And then one day, as the two are having the time of their lives in Paris, they catch wind of the news. Rebekah's half brother has knocked up some w...
" In a hotel room where demons play, they run around beneath our feet "
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THE shutters were almost fully closed in the dining room because of Lena, who sat with a can of Red Bull cradled in her hands and her head sat against the table, letting out a quiet groan every so often. She and Rebekah had gone on a drinking spree the night before - Lena was too traumatised by almost dying to care about her 'no alcohol' rule - and now they were facing the consequences.
"Is something the matter, brother?" Klaus asked Elijah loudly, causing his girlfriend to let out another quiet groan as she raised her head slightly to take a sip of her Red Bull and noticed Elijah standing behind her. "Can I fix you a drink, perhaps?"
"Strangely enough, I'm not in a mimosa mood," replied the eldest brother, running a soothing hand over Lena's head, understanding that she really was not well. It was so sunny outside, and she loved the sun so her having the shutters closed was a true sign of her not being right.
"Fantastic," came Klaus' chipper voice. He was talking far too loudly for Lena's liking, and she had already told him off earlier about it. "More for me."
"Let's discuss strategy, shall we, Niklaus?" At least Elijah was trying to talk quieter for the sake of the very hungover witch. "Just wondering if you actually have one. We can begin with Mikael's ashes. Given that they are the main ingredient in our weapon against Dahlia, would you care to tell me where they disappeared to?"
"Elijah," sighed out Klaus, causing Lena to place her chin on her crossed arms so she could watch him. He had finally put down his mimosa. She was sure it was his third that morning. "I have compelled the city's finest pastry chef for your own personal edification and yet you ignore my efforts in favour of needless concerns!"
"Please shut up," groaned Lena, "you're talking too loudly."
"I agree," came Rebekah's equally as unamused voice as she entered the dining room, leaning on the back of Lena's chair. "Give me that," she ordered, diving for the cup of tea on the table. Lena took another swig of her Red Bull, glaring at the food laid out on the table in front of her.
"What's the matter?" teased Klaus, smirking at the two hungover witches. He had told Lena it wasn't a good idea to go out with Rebekah last night, but neither of them had listened and he had been forced to put them both to bed when they stumbled into the compound at three that morning, singing too loudly for anyone's good. "New witch body not up to last night's bender?"
"So, we had a few," replied Rebekah with a shrug, dropping into the chair beside Lena and sending her a tired and hungover smile. Lena couldn't bring herself to smile back. She really did not like getting drunk. "It's not every day you lose your father to the hands of your brother, again."
