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"Under no circumstances are you to use your magic when in the presence of the outsiders, Hope. You can't give away your Trump card until and unless it is absolutely necessary," Hayley's dark lashes grazed her high cheekbones as she narrowed her eyes warningly.
"Sure," Hope replies, her voice mild as she follows her bounding down the stairs and into the empty courtyard. The white sheets are thrown over pieces of furniture, turning them into humped, unwieldy ghosts, attempting to show to every trespasser that they were really in mourning.
But it must have seemed distant, lacked any conviction. Because Hayley pauses briefly and turns around to fix her gaze upon her. "Hope!" Hayley begins, and now there is kindness in her voice, the tone she associated with her mother -love, and exasperation mixed together.
"Mom," Hope voices in the same tone as her mother, a small smile playing around her mouth. "I promise I won't do anything that will jeopardize my safety unless it is absolutely necessary. Now can we please go on that run you promised me about yesterday?" The Tribrid doesn't mention the obviously well-known fact that she cloaks herself with an Invisque so as to not be seen by the watchdogs Francesca planted outside the compound every time she goes in and out of the house.
"Fine. But you should-"
"Be careful," Hope cuts in, not unkindly, "So no one catches me shifting mid-way through. I know. We have covered that in babysitting 101. Now can we please leave before Uncle Elijah or Dad change their minds? I really, really, need to let off some steam after seeing my murderous grandmother and dearest, dead Uncle Finn."
She seemed pleased enough with the answer, so she resumed walking. "I still can't believe they are here, though," The older werewolf shakes her head in disbelief. Soon, she comes to a stop to talk to her daughter once again. The fresh reminder of Esther and Finn Mikaelson rattled her. "I mean, you did warn us about it, but still-"
On one of her casual walks around New Orleans, Hope came across the mother and son duo. She didn't realize it at first, of course. But when the Tribrid saw the lookalike of Vincent Griffith walking around with the rumoured back-to-life Harvest Witch, Hope immediately connected the dots on who Cassie really was. It explained why she so openly allied with Francesca and made her werewolves moonlight rings.
"Look, I know we all sound like a broken record, and I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself. I mean, I saw you take on your father and uncle for godsakes, and it's no easy feat. But...just - please keep your head low for some time, alright," Hayley pleads. "As soon as the Guerrera's are out of the equation and the white oak safe in your father's hands... you can go on as usual."
There was a time Hope would've thrown a fit for being told this. Rebelled, even. But now, her concerns and overprotectiveness sounded instinctively soothing to her ears. She must've been silent for too long because Hayley grows concerned. "What is it?" Her mother asks softly, her face troubled.
