There was a certain allure to her, even before you knew her you could feel it pulling you towards her. Everyone in the village knew her, being in her presence was otherworldly, a never ending experience. Every time she smiled you could feel it in yo...
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England, 1490.
It wasn't an awful morning for Niklaus Mikaelson, it was a terrible night, and it didn't seemed to end. Canvas after canvas inundated with the same blues, those same shades that haunted his nightmares and daydreams. He always painted with the same shades of blue but they were always wrong. It was never the right color, the right shade, the right amount of blue. A lot of colors flooded his mind but the blues were the more persistent ones, the blues never seemed to leave his mind. Sometimes when the canvases burned he could see the right shade just as it was burning and be reminded of her.
"Niklaus," said Elijah barging into the room, "you know the smoke," he said pointing all around him, "it already reached the main hall."
"If you think I care brother, you don't know me very well," said Klaus turning to face Elijah.
"There is a lot of blue," Klaus let out a dry chuckle.
"Do you think I haven't notice," Klaus shouted clearly in distress, "and please do not tell me how you believe I am getting the right colors when it isn't true."
"Well, they're burning so I am inclined to say they're in fact not right."
"What do you want?."
"You've been at it for at least six moons Niklaus, and it is not your best look."
"Now, I pose a question, do you think I care?."
"No. But I thought by now there would be some yellow or hazel," in a swift movement Klaus had Elijah against the wall by his throat.
"Careful with your next words brother," Elijah smiled knowingly.
"Long time since I've seen that shade of brown," Elijah said still being held by Klaus.
"Stop," said Klaus, there was clear agony in his eyes, "I don't want to talk about her," Elijah pushed Klaus off of him.
"No," Elijah fixed his clothes and took a few steeps forwards until he reached for one of the canvases and throwed it into the fire, "you know I used to remember very clearly as if she was standing in front of me the color of her eyes."
"Why are you telling me this?."
"You are not listening Niklaus," Klaus started mixing paint again, "key words used to," Klaus turned to him, "I know it was a beautiful shade of brown but I can't picture it or even her face for that matter, don't you find it strange?."
"Stop talking," he added some more blue to the mix.
"Brother don't you see not talking about it is what got us into this mess?."
"She left, what is there to say," he added more white, "she left me."
"Are we sure it was willingly?," Elijah kept pushing, "she was with us from the very beginning and didn't left even after the nasty affair with Aurora."
"Do not mention that name."
"I find it strange how easy she has slipped from my memory and I only recall what she made me feel and there's shimmer in my mind all around her."
"Do you think I want to sit here and listen to you telling me how she made you feel."
"It is not about that Niklaus, is about how it's been no more than half a century and Ican't remember her face."
"I thought I was losing my mind," Klaus said half smiling, "I can't seem to remember her face, I only see colors that once resembled her and I can't even get them right," he shouted the last part and throwed the small palette where he was mixing his colors, it crashed on the wall.
"And i can assure you that if we asked our sibling they would say something along the same lines".
"I am haunted by her absence and the lost memories of her," Klaus grabbed the palette again and started cleaning it up, "I despise the way my mind betrays me every time I try to picture her or remember her laugh, it gives me hope and then takes it".
"I know it pains you brother," Elijah understood the feeling to perfection, "it pains me too."
"It does more than that," Klaus started putting more paint in his palette, "if you're here to interchange stories about how she made us feel, I..."
"I have a theory," Elijah interrupted, "witches," he said.
"What do you mean?."
"You are not the only one forgetting about her when she should be cleared as day in our memories, my only reasoning is some spell."
"Do you believe she was kidnapped?"
"I do not think she would leave you, us, on her own."
Klaus kept trying to picture Lilith, his Lilibeth, but his mind would only show him colors surrounded by a weird shimmer around them. When he tried to remember the sound of her laugh it pained him, he constantly thought it was his memory playing him tricks, or just that the pain of her leaving was hard enough that his mind decided to just forget about her, but it was happening to Elijah too. What if he was right? What if she never wanted to leave him? He knew that from the moment she turned into a vampire they had their ups and downs, but she never threatened to leave until the night she did and finally disappeared. The last four hundred years he's been trying to forget her and trying to remember her at the same time, it was an arduous task, one that every day took most of his mental space. Between his Lilibeth and trying to find ways to break his curse he was exhausted, and all in between witches always meddling in his business.
