little mikaelson ⚜️ the originals

39

After the body of their father was burned and disposed of for good, the corpse of the young woman Darla had befriended be taken care of (with the upmost respect and honour), and Kit was dropped off to the safety and comfort of his own home, the Mikaelson siblings all let out a sigh of relief.

Rebekah and Marcel were the first to retire, going back to Marcel's place on the border of the city. Then, shortly after, Hayley and Elijah followed in suit, mentioning something of the rather about wanting to see no more blood for a very long time. Freya had brought up something about needing a drink, and so Kol joined her — but for a different kind of drink, indeed. And with their departure, all that was left in the Mikaelson home was a weary father and his traumatised teen.

Darla hadn't spoken since the moment she reunited with her father, too deep in thought to even process the fact that other people were. She'd just killed a man. Her grandfather, to be exact. And although she knew and understood the fact that he was a horrible man — using the term loosely, of course — that didn't change the fact that she had blood on her hands.

So as she sat by the fireplace, watching the flickering flames, her father took it upon himself to watch the fire too. Well, more so the girl in front of it.

This — Darla having to experience a minor fraction of the hardships and gore that he had — was the last thing that Klaus wanted for her. In fact, that was the exact reason he sent her away in the first place. So that she could be brought up just as other children were. Without bloodshed, without being hunted, without being a target, and without having to kill original vampires with magical daggers. He wanted her to have a normal life. And for the most part, he succeeded.

She grew up in a small town and had friends her age. She played outside. She snuck behind her auntie Bex's back and brought boys into her room like a normal teenager did. She loved boy bands, and superhero films, and she slept a little too much but that was okay because she was normal. And the second that Klaus brings her home...

Shaking his head and getting rid of his intrusive thoughts, he found himself quietly walking over to the girl, crouching down beside her.

"How do you feel, love?" He asked worriedly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

But Darla said nothing. Just watched as the hypnotic flickering of the flames engulfed the wood within the fireplace. In fact, Klaus wasn't even sure she'd heard him.

"Darling," He tried again, shifting in hopes of her seeing him better. "Are you okay?"

That question. That silly, stupid, irrelevant question that no one actually wanted the answer to was always the one to put a crack in the dam.

Darla tried to compose herself, but she couldn't stop the incessant wobbling of her chin or the tears that welled up in her pretty brown eyes. Noticing this, Klaus was instantly wrapped around her, cradling her like a child.

Because sometimes you just need to be held.

And as his one and only child wept into his chest, he found himself picking her up, and walking back to his room. He gently set her down on the bed — much to her protest — but cooed to her as he wiped her tears.

"I'll be but a minute, darling," He said soothingly, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. "I'll be right back. I promise. I just have to fetch something, okay?"