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1914 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐎𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬

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1914 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐎𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬.

"It is curious," Darcy mentioned, her unique accent runing out of her lips like syrup. Her old, ocean blue orbs glistened as they bore into a similar set of eyes. Hers seemed so ancient compared to the wide, excited ones of the taller woman "to see a witch as lovely as you dating my brother."

The witch's eyes sparkled, knowing something the original didn't "Oh, it's not really a date."

Darcy narrowed her eyes, glancing at Kol over the witch's shoulder, before shifting them back to meet the witch's gaze "For your sake, I hope so. I love my brother, I really do. But, he has a track record with women." Darcy tilted her head "Do I know you, from somewhere, someplace? You seem familar. Some how."

The witch's smile widened, the original before her wasn't someone you forgot easily. With her beauty, her strange accent - a cocktail of Swedish and British - and her eyes. So old. So cold. Constantly appearing as if they were to unleash a tear - despite the original's wishes "So do you."

Darcy raised her head, brows narrowing. She kept a long stare before she claspped the witch's forearm, in a friendly impression, leaning forward, whispering in her ear "You can do better."

She withdrew smoothly. Heading for the staircase, taking a confident stance next to her only full blooded brother: Klaus, before lifting her gaze and shot a smile to Kol. Who grinned at her. His normal mischief swirling in his orbs. Rebekah and Marcel joined the group, stepping on the end of the stairs. Darcy turned her head, raising it with pride, lips twisted in a light smirk. The camera man shot a picture of them before Klaus tapped a fork against his glass, earning the guests attention.

"As you know," Klaus began, gazing over the compound, eyes light and lips seemingly cheerful "when the Mikaelsons arrived in Louisiana, we brought with us, the tradition of hoilday bonfire season. Now we invite you chosen few, to join us in our family's own tradition of writing wishes for each other and burning them for luck." Kol tilted his head, smirking, gaze aimed at Klaus "The holidays are a time for celebrating family and friends." Klaus met Rebekah and Marcel's gazes breifly "It is espectially gratifying in times when treachery runs deep-" Kol's face dropped, eyes drifting to his older brother. Whilst his sister frowned at the look on his face, what had he down now? "-to know you have someone you can trust."

Darcy looked towards Klaus. She knew he was up to something. Klaus raised his arm, hoisting his glass in the air "A toast," Kol's brows furrowed as Darcy narrowed her eyes, worried for her youngest brother "to you my sister, to Rebekah."

Kol started to make his way hurriedly to the upper floor. Elijah moved to let him pass, as Darcy moved to follow. Kol sent a harsh glare to his brother, as he passed. Elijah sped after him. Darcy growled, brows drew in a fierce glare, stepping to interfere. Rebekah grabbed her arm, sending a pleading look which was missed, due to her orbs sticking to Kol's movements.

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