Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
YOU ARE A MIKAELSON

"Close your eyes, I got you now."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     "You want to use me for what?" Francis asked flatly the next afternoon, staring at where Henrik was kneeling in the middle of the living room. The furniture was pushed to the side, the coffee table half in the hallway, and on the hardwood floor was a pentagram drawn with chalk with candles at each point. Beside Henrik was a bowl of water, and on his other side was the vial of Hayley's blood. Henrik sipped at some water, then sighed and put his water bottle back on the floor, off to the side. He still felt a bit off from removing the Hollow, but Hayley didn't have the time to wait for Henrik to feel better. He felt well enough. That would have to do.

"In order to travel between the astral plane and the mortal plane," Henrik started to explain again, "I need a good power source, and you are over two centuries old." Francis crossed his arms over his chest, looking displeased at the reminder of his age. He muttered something about Henrik being rude, and Henrik offered him a smile. "It's true. You're the oldest immortal being around me." Henrik paused, then grimaced and offered Francis a small shrug. "I wouldn't ask this of you if I had another option." Francis studied him for a moment, then slowly approached the pentagram, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. The only sign that he was nervous was his throat moving as he swallowed.

"Will it hurt?" Francis asked warily, tilting his head like the pentagram would twist into another shape. Henrik raised his eyebrows.

"No," he promised. "I would never do anything to hurt you." He paused, then added, "You might feel weak afterward, but nothing blood won't fix. I'll be fast about it. Using Hayley's blood, it should take me straight to her." Francis's eyes went to the vial of Hayley's blood, which had a quarter missing. Henrik had already put a spell on Francis's daylight ring. If Hayley died, then Francis would know. Henrik watched Francis twist said ring around his finger once, and then heard Francis release a low sigh.

"Alright," Francis agreed, though he didn't look happy about it. He looked so bothered, in fact, that Henrik felt a flash of guilt. He straightened, then leaned forward to catch Francis's eyes with his own.

"I'm sorry," Henrik felt the need to say, his sympathy clear in his voice. "I know you don't like..." He waved at the candles, pentagram, and bowl of water at his side. "...this." Francis frowned at him, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered what to say next.

"I don't like what?" Francis asked after a moment. "Your magic?" Henrik shrugged. That wasn't precisely what he had meant, but it was close enough, since Francis didn't like magic being done to or on him. Still, Francis's expression softened, and a small sigh left his mouth. "No, darling, I love your magic, even when it gets dark. I think it's beautiful. I just don't like not having control over myself, and magic tends to..." At a loss for words, Francis waved his hand in the air. Henrik relaxed a bit and blew out a small breath.

"I would never hurt you," Henrik repeated softly, hoping it would comfort Francis a bit.

"I know," Francis assured, and then he sighed dramatically and stepped closer, eyeing the pentagram once again, his hands falling to his hips. "Okay, let's do this. Are you laying on the huge pentagram, or am I?"

"You are," Henrik said, motioning him forward. Francis eased down, careful not to smear any of the chalk, and laid down in the center of the pentagram with his head touching Henrik's knees. Henrik eased his head up and shifted forward, so Francis's head could lay in his lap. He chose to explain in further detail as he stroked Francis's hair back from his forehead. "You won't be unconscious or anything, and you'll have free movement. I just basically need to draw power from you. It'll feel kind of like having your blood drawn, but I took measures to make it as painless as possible." Henrik stroked his hair once more, then leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "You'll be okay."