Of Blood and Bone ₰ The Originals

Prologue | Shades of Red

________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛

Hiding by Florence + The Machine

Tell me I will be released,

Not sure I can deal with this.

Up all night again this week,

Breaking things that I should keep.

________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛

PROLOGUE | SHADES OF RED  

      Niklaus Mikaelson was not known to be a patient man.

      He gritted his teeth in frustration and dragged his paintbrush roughly across the canvas, smearing the mediocre crimson flames in a diagonal line. Pursing his lips in displeasure at the ruination of his portrait, he suddenly flung his paint pot across the room, the porcelain sending a sharp smattering of noise across the Compound.

     "Brother, I advise you to quit throwing your artistic utensils. At this rate, we will have to begin compelling the shop keeper."

      Niklaus turned around, recognising that voice that lightly tread on condescension, annoyingly so. "Elijah." He acknowledged his older brother curtly. "How much longer do you insist on keeping me prisoner here?"

      "If you were to be imprisoned, trust me, Niklaus, you wouldn't even be able to talk." Elijah answered honestly. The younger of the duo smiled sarcastically. "Well, I suppose that I can always count on your candour." He flung his paintbrush on a nearby table, leaning heavily against the mantle.

      "Elijah, this is utter stupidity: my daughter is out there somewhere, forced to flee from her home because of a rag-tag group of witches, my sister whom I banished is looking after Hope and I'm stuck here, painting portraits like a good little boy," he snarled. "I should be out there, Elijah, separating the sinews that connects our enemies heads to their shoulders!"

      "That rag tag group of witches killed Hayley."

     "Temporarily."

      "Niklaus, that is not my point!" Elijah exclaimed. "You are impulsive when we need to be cunning and deliberate; these witches are not to be fooled around with. For goodness' sake, they are the reason why you are incapacitated every month!"

      Niklaus grimaced, his facial muscles contracting with displeasure, not enjoying the fact that Elijah was waving around his Achilles' heel so lightly. "I need new paint." He muttered finally with a huff, his eyes travelling around his room. Elijah sighed, his lips pursing slightly as he did so, "well, if you had not foolishly wasted all your stores in your temper tantrums . . . anyway, tell me what colour you need."