A Thrill I've Never Known ✔️

~Thirteen~

thirteen

"Thank you for today, Bekah," Gracie said a sad note in her voice. The two were sitting on the songstress's bed, while she painted the Mikaelson Sister's face with makeup.

"What for? I should be thanking you for everything you've done in less than a week."

The Dutch vampire hummed, concentrated on her task, "Centuries and centuries ago, I buried my sister today."

Rebekah gasped quietly, "I'm so sorry."

Gracelyn smiled faintly, "Don't be, cherub. It isn't your fault."

:3

The next day, Gracelyn had woken with Kol in her bed once more. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face buried in her stomach. Her soft and amused laughter woke him, making the Mikaelson look at her with a very childish pout.

"Oh, dear heart. You have to let me go so I can make breakfast."

He shook his head and face planted her stomach once more, a muffled 'No' leaving his mouth.

She sighed, "Well then. I guess I can't give your surprise today. You do have me all to yourself after all."

Kol shot up and out the door towards the kitchen and her sweet laughter filled Gracie's room.

:3

After another family breakfast, during which there was laughter all around the table. Klaus had given them all genuine smiles, Rebekah was acting like an actual teenager and Elijah watched her curiously with a tender look in his eyes, Gracelyn and Kol were in a borrowed car that the hybrid had lent them.

The blonde songstress was tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel to a silent beat, while the second youngest Mikaelson stared out the window.

"So where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, Kol."

"Can I at least get a hint?" He whined, making Gracelyn huff with amusement.

"Okay. We're going to meet a descendant of mine. A great, great, great, something, something, niece actually. Before I had... found my sister, she had married young and already had a son." The songstress grimaced at the word 'found.'

Kol swallowed the guilt that had built up in his throat for bringing up her sister.

"Isabelle had left because she thought that her husband and son had died by his two brothers' hands. Of course, now I know it isn't true, otherwise..."

The Mikaelson nodded, understanding and the blonde continued, "She's very talented and when she came to me, we became very close. She'd actually been in a war and lost many friends and had practically no blood family left. So when we met she was ecstatic."

Gracie smiled at the memory, lost in that moment.

She looked at her best friend who was fixated on her, eyes wide with curiosity, "And?"

"She's a different kind of witch, dear heart. A very powerful witch. She's immortal due to certain circumstances and when I told her about you, she offered to do something that I will never be able to repay her for."

Gracie bit her lip and smiled faintly, "You know when I saw her, I immediately thought she was Isabelle. Her cheekbones and her midnight black hair that was always untamable. But her eyes were a different colour... they were mesmerising."

Kol suddenly frowned, "But what has this got to do with me?"

"She wants to meet you, darling. From everything I've told her, she already adores you." Gracie narrowed her eyes at him a little.

"We continued to spend the next thirty years together, I almost cried once when she slipped up and called me Mum. She continues to do so even after another decade. That's when she told me a few of her secrets."

"What kind of secrets?" Kol asked, his childlike curiosity peaking through.

"Ah ah ah. She has to tell you herself."

He nodded slowly, if not begrudgingly and focused his attention out of the front window.

"We are we meeting her then?"

"A restaurant in Richmond."

:3

Kol and Gracelyn got out of the car slowly and through the window, the songstress could see her dear niece sitting inside, waving at her.

The Mikaelson was distracted by the establishment, whistling with appreciation.

Gracie wrapped her arm around his and dragged him inside and towards the table where the last of her blood family sat.

The woman, who looked to be about seventeen, smiled up at the two and brushed a piece of her unruly black hair out of her vibrant green eyes that practically glowed.

"Kol, dear heart, please meet my niece, the Mistress of Death, Hartley Potter."

The woman then looked a little bit shy, "Please. Call me Harry."