Chapter 23
The day after the battle with Greta was one of bittersweet farewells and newfound resolutions. The Mikaelson compound, which had once been filled with the chaos of plans and tensions, was now oddly quiet. The lingering feeling of victory was tempered by the reality that their work was far from over. Still, for a brief moment, there was peace.
Klaus had made his decision quickly, as he always did. Despite the reunion with Hope, despite the brief comfort of being back in his daughter’s life, Klaus knew he had to leave. His responsibility as a father was never going to fade, but he had other obligations; other enemies to face. He had never been one to stick around for long. And Hope, now a teenager with a sharper understanding of her father’s unpredictable nature, could see it in his eyes.
She stood in the doorway of the compound, watching her father prepare to leave. Her gaze was conflicted, disappointment lingering in her expression. “You’re really leaving?”
Klaus paused in his movements, his hands gripping the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The harsh reality of his departure hit him in a way it never had before. This wasn’t the carefree, reckless Klaus of the past. This was a man who had been forced to realize that his family wasn’t just something he could discard when it suited him. But he knew, too, that his presence could never stay static. He needed to keep moving.
“I’ll be back, darling. I always come back,” Klaus said, his voice softer than usual, his gaze lingering on Hope for a moment longer than necessary. There was a sadness in his eyes, an understanding that Hope was no longer the little girl who needed his protection. She was growing, evolving. But he couldn’t change who he was. Not now.
Hope swallowed hard, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve. “I don’t want you to go.”
Klaus’ eyes softened, but only for a brief moment. His expression quickly hardened again, though there was still something in his gaze that spoke volumes. “I don’t want to leave you either, but I must. There are things I need to do. But I’ll come back, when it’s safe. You’ll see me again.”
He turned, walking toward the door, and Hope’s voice cracked as she called after him, her words heavy with the longing she couldn’t hide. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Klaus stopped just short of the door, his hand resting on the handle. He didn’t look back, but he gave a small, barely perceptible nod. “I promise.”
And then, with that, he was gone.
Freya, for her part, had a much happier reunion. Keelin, who had been away for some time, finally returned to the compound, a relieved smile on her face. She had been in touch with Freya over the course of the past few days, but now that the immediate threat had passed, there was nothing left between them except for the joy of being reunited.
“Keelin!” Freya beamed, practically launching herself into the woman’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
Keelin returned the embrace warmly, holding Freya tight as though she were afraid to let go. “I wouldn’t leave you for long, not after everything we’ve been through.”
The couple stood in the middle of the room, lost in their own world for a few brief moments. They didn’t speak, just held each other, letting the silence and peace wash over them. There was no need for words between them. Everything had already been said in the way they clung to one another, as though they had found their place in the world once again.
“We’ll figure this out,” Freya said softly as she pulled back, her eyes filled with love and determination. “We’re a family now, Keelin. And no one will take that from us.”
Keelin smiled, nodding. “I’m with you, Freya. Always.”
Kol and Davina, though, had their own path to follow. Kol, always the wanderer, was already itching to get back to his own home, away from the pressure of the Mikaelson compound. Home was calling to him, and he knew he needed to return there, to the city that had always been his and his alone.
“We’ll take care of things at home,” Kol said, his tone casual as he gave a brief nod to everyone in the room. “But let’s not forget, the family’s always here, should you need us.”
Davina, too, was ready to return to their life back home, though her departure was marked with a quiet farewell to the people she had fought alongside. She and Kol had been through their own trials, and now that Greta was no longer a threat, they could focus on their own lives again.
“We’ll be in touch,” Davina said, her voice soft, almost as if she didn’t quite know how to say goodbye. She gave Freya a final hug before they left, their bond solidified by everything they had been through together.
Marcel, meanwhile, had his own responsibilities to tend to. The city of New Orleans still required his attention. The streets weren’t safe just because one enemy had been defeated. There was still work to be done.
“I’m heading back,” Marcel said, standing near the door as he met each of the family members’ eyes in turn. His gaze softened as he looked at Vincent. “I’ll see you soon. Let’s keep things running smoothly in the city.”
Vincent, ever the reliable one, nodded. “Take care, Marcel. We’ll hold the fort here.”
With a final glance around the room, Marcel left, the weight of the city on his shoulders once again.
The Mikaelson compound seemed quieter now, each of them scattered in different directions. Santana and Brittany stood together, their hands lightly intertwined as they leaned against one of the compound’s large windows. Outside, the city was calm, as though it, too, was breathing a sigh of relief.
Brittany was the first to speak, her voice light, but with a note of finality. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
Santana nodded, a small, almost relieved smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I think we are.”
For a long moment, neither of them said anything, just basking in the comfort of knowing they had survived and found each other again. But even in that moment of peace, there was still the question of what came next.
“I’ve got some plans,” Santana said after a while, turning to face Brittany more fully. “I’m not done yet. I may have left school, but I’m applying to NYADA. I want to go back, and I want to prove that I can do it.”
Brittany’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s amazing. I know you’ll get in.”
Santana smiled softly, though there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in her expression. “I hope so. But no matter what, I’ll always be here for you.”
Brittany grinned, brushing a lock of hair behind Santana’s ear. “I’m going back to McKinley. The Glee Club’s calling my name.”
Santana chuckled softly, the thought of high school adventures almost nostalgic. “I’m proud of you, Brit. You’re going to do amazing things.”
With that, the two of them shared a quiet, but solid moment of understanding. Though there was uncertainty ahead, they knew one thing for sure: they were in this together.
And with their newfound abilities, Santana’s vampire speed, Brittany’s magic, they would find ways to make their long-distance relationship work. Maybe not forever, but for now, they would see each other more often, and that was enough.
As the night settled in, the two of them shared a kiss; brief, but full of promise. The future, though unknown, seemed less daunting with each passing moment.
The compound eventually emptied, the sounds of people leaving and the slam of doors echoing in the halls. Brittany and Santana made their way to one of the quieter rooms, ready to rest after a long day. The world outside seemed still, as though it, too, was recovering from the storm they had weathered.
But as the last of the Mikaelsons, friends, and allies disappeared into the night, something was wrong. A lingering tension remained in the air, a subtle disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.
The silence of the compound grew heavier, darker. It was late—, ar past midnight, when the air grew thick once more, the stillness unsettling.
And then, from the shadows, she appeared.
Greta.
Her body, once broken and bruised, slowly began to heal, the dark magic that had once coursed through her veins now fully restored. Her eyes, sharp and filled with rage, flickered open, slowly scanning the room. She wasn’t dead.
Greta’s lips curled into a malicious grin as she stood, unfazed by the damage to her body. Slowly, she took in the compound, her gaze calculating. The last thing she remembered was the dagger, Brittany’s spell, and yet, here she was, fully alive.
"I told you," Greta’s voice was a whisper, cold and cutting. "You haven’t won, not yet."
She stepped forward, disappearing into the shadows once more, the quiet promise of her return lingering in the air.
Outside, the streets of New Orleans remained silent. But inside the Mikaelson compound, the battle wasn’t over. It had only just begun.