We never had to force love. We were drowning in it the moment we met.
Five years ago Claire met the Mikaelson's and her entire world changed. She lost friends, family but gained new ones. She's experienced true heartbreak but found the meaning of ha...
*IMPORTANT! If you read this chapter when I first published it you would notice that sometimes it looked as if this turned into an 'x reader' story. If you didn't know I have been writing 'x reader' stories on Tumblr a lot lately (my username on that is the same as on here if you wanna check them out). It was a mistake, force of habit that I tried to watch out for but it was also around one in the morning when I wrote this. I went through and hopefully corrected the mistakes. If I do it again in the future just be patient with me because that's just how I write on Tumblr and it's hard for my brain to switch gears sometimes. I hope y'all are still enjoying the story, love y'all!*
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"Hey, Cami," Claire greets walking into Rousseau's. The blond bartender smiles back as she wipes down the counter.
"Hey, Claire. There's a table in the back reserved for your meeting," Cami mentions. Claire thanks her and makes her way to the table. She sets the book she uses to keep notes on the factions on the table top and takes a seat at the head.
Twice a month Claire made sure to sit at the table with at least one of the heads of each faction. She listened to their concerns, grievances and what areas could be improved. Of course, what was good for one faction usually threw off the balance of another.
Vampires wanted more feeding freedoms which would spark argument with the human faction. Werewolves wanted to move out of the Bayou, a handful not all of them, which made the vampires nervous.
The hybrids were mischievous little shits. Almost every faction had something to say about them. Honestly, they were like toddlers but Claire couldn't help but have a softer spot for them than the other factions thus leaning towards giving them more leeway than the others. They knew of her soft spot and exploited it. Like she mentioned, they were little shits.
The witches, on the other hand, normally didn't speak up much. Those that had survived the massacre didn't want to push their luck. They had more freedom than they had in years but knew they were still on thin ice.
Slowly, the leaders of the factions began to show up. Father Kieran was the first. He sat somewhere in the middle of the table to Claire's left. They made small talk and exchanged pleasantries before Caroline arrived with Marcel. Her twin took the seat directly to her right with Marcel sitting on the other side of Caroline.
"You look tired," Claire comments, looking at her sister. Caroline gives her an unamused look.
"I used to think you were difficult when you were pregnant but after dealing with Rebekah for two months I now realize how easy you were," Caroline sighs, slamming her head on the table. Claire stifles a laugh and looks at Marcel.
"Asher came with us and told Rebekah you needed to talk to him about something during the meeting just to get a few moments of peace," Marcel says. He nods toward the bar. She looks over to see Asher downing a double shot. Claire laughs shaking her head. "I think he's thinking about getting a vasectomy,"
