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REBEKAH Mikaelson was cunning, vindictive but most of all, a jealous person.

She was jealous of the girls in her village, even before she turned into a vampire, but after her transformation, that jealousy was magnified tenfold.

She watched them grow up, some of them had families before she had to leave.

She was jealous of the little girls who had loving fathers, of the people who didn't have to run all over the world just to survive.

Then she met Morrigan.

She loved Morrigan like a sister but she couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Morrigan was just like everyone else, but in the front of her mind, she was sure that Morrigan, on even just a surface level, understood her troubles.

Then Rebekah found out Morrigan's secret. She was pregnant.

Rebekah wasn't proud of it, but in the few weeks following the revelation, she distanced herself from the witch. Eventually, of course, they became as close as they were before, if not closer, but at that time, Rebekah cursed herself.

Why couldn't she just be happy for her best friend?




Morrigan Brooks

"I COULD look at these all day," I say to the original next to me. Elijah smiles at the flowers, and then at me.

"You say that every time we pass this florist," he says, picking up a peony from the bouquet displayed.

We had been walking through the French Quarter daily now, and while Elijah had supposedly become a 'leader of the city' or as Klaus liked to say it 'a king of the quarter', he still made time to walk with me.

"When are you leaving?" He asks and I shrug.

"Midday," I say lowly, not really wanting to go, but at the same time, I was bursting with excitement.

I was going to France for around two weeks to design my dream wedding dress and while Elijah hypothetically could have come, both myself and Rebekah insisted he stay here so as to not see me in my dress before the day.

"I'm going to really miss you," I say, threading my arms around his shoulders.

"You have Rebekah, and you will be back in France. You are going to be fine," he says with a small laugh as he presses a featherlight kiss to my lips.

It probably wasn't proper behaviour, seeing as we were in public, though I didn't care.

"My relationship with Rebekah is slightly different to the one I have with you," I murmured, keeping my lips a hair's breadth from his while he laughed.

"You and I both know that's not what I meant and like you said. We can see each other every night through your projection."

"It's not the same," I complain.

Elijah doesn't answer, but instead, he pulls me in by my waist and buries his head into my shoulder, pressing another kiss to my sensitive skin.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 | Elijah Mikaelson [1]Where stories live. Discover now