White Blood | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter Seven

1822 — New Orleans, Louisiana

   It had been days since Eleanor came out of her room. She hadn't eaten, hadn't spoken, hadn't slept since Klaus saved her from Nanette Passebon. All she had done since then was either watch the sun from her window, lay on her bed, on sit on the sofa and read one of the many books that were scattered around the room. It came to the point where she didn't even speak to the people that walked into her room. 

   There were times where Elijah would come by with a new book, and he would speak to her about it. He would tell her about what it was, the difference between the characters, how she would enjoy that book just as much as she enjoyed the last one she devoured. When she didn't respond to him, he would sigh and leave.

   Rebekah would then walk in, demand the girl for her to stand and go with her to the city. Eleanor wouldn't respond, she would stare at the trees from her window and barely listen. That caused Rebekah to get angry, and to tell her that she should either stand and forger or lose herself in the moments of that horrible memory. Again, Eleanor wouldn't answer. 

   The person that always went to her room was Klaus. He was the only one that wouldn't speak, the only one that would sit idly by and sketch on a black leather book. The pair didn't speak, but they did feel comfortable in each other's presence. The only thing Klaus spoke about was how Eleanor needed to feed, but she would never respond. Her eyes were always trained down on the book or simply watching the flame of the candle move with the gentle breeze that came from the window.

   Eleanor sat on the seat under the table, her head on the sill as she watched the breeze move the leaves on the trees and the birds fly around as they sang their gentle songs. She heard the door to her bedroom open and close, heard the soft thuds of shoes against the wood, and then the person let out a sigh.

   "Eleanor," Klaus said from behind her. "Please, come, you need to feed." When she didn't respond, he sighed once again and walked up to her. He took a seat besides her and looked out the window, following her eyes. "If you don't feed, you might kill the first person that walks right through that door." She didn't answer once again, and that caused him to sigh. "Eleanor, please, speak to me. What is wrong?"

   "She won't speak, Nik," Rebekah said from the door. "It's useless trying to make her talk."

   "Leave the girl alone," Elijah added. "She's been through a lot, Rebekah."

   "So have I; do you see me becoming a mute?"

   "If you're going to be so insensitive please leave," Klaus said, glaring at his sister.

   Eleanor turned her head to see Elijah grab his sister by the arm and drag her out of the room. She heard him hiss a low, "She was going to be used as a sacrificed, Rebekah! You could be a bit more sensitive about it."

   "Come on, then." Klaus grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room. He pulled her down the stairs, and straight out through the kitchen to go to the back. The sun was high in the sky, the air was hot, and the grounds were filled with colourful summer flowers. Klaus's hand slowly moved from her arm to her hand as he dragged her across the grass, straight to the apple orchard.

   "No," Eleanor pleaded, trying to pull back. "Please, no, not there!"

   Klaus stopped and looked down at her. "You're scared," he noted. He moved closer to her and pushed a strand of pale hair behind her ear. "You needn't be, Eleanor. I'm here, and while I'm here nothing will happen to you."

   Eleanor hesitated, then nodded, and allowed the Original to pull her once again. His hand felt warm on hers, almost as if she were touching fire on a terribly cold night. It surprised her to feel such warmth, especially since everything she has touched had felt indifferent. She watched as he pulled her along, as he let a small smirk around his lips form with every step. He stopped by the apple tree she had killed the man the night of the party, and she noticed how the blood that had fallen on the ground had been soaked up by the dirt.