I'LL REMEMBER APRIL // KLAUS MIKAELSON

IF I SHOULD LOSE YOU

           

"The same goes for you." Odette replied as she looked at the young man in front of her. His hair curly and brown, an athletic build and blue eyes. Beneath his feet the body of the young Davina Claire, her chest still rising. Odette needed to do something, anything so she could ignore the commotion going on outside. She had to have hope, hope that Klaus would win this fight. Hope that somehow, she would be able to stop herself from trying to save him if he didn't.

She got down on her knees next to Davina, who had a nasty wound on her head and held her hand on the wound.

"What are you doing?"

"We're obviously both witches, so please just keep your mouth shut."  She curled Davina's hair around every one of her fingers, tightly placing them against her bones and veins.

"Reparare quod contritum est, reparare quod contritum est..."  she felt something sting her own head as she took some of Davina's pain. Then she slowly started to unwind the  the hair from her hands, letting it fall back into place.

She got up, "'There won't be any brain damage when she wakes up. She'll probably have a head ache."

It was the piercing sound of Klaus's scream that woke her from her little self-created daydream, one of love and redemption and saving people. It awoke something in her,which was why she ran to the door, slammed it open and held up a threatening hand, ready to hit.

But it wasn't necessary, as before Odette could do anything Klaus had driven Papa Tunde's familiar mystical blade of anguish into Mikael's chest. It dug itself further in, making a little home in the man's cold chest. Mikael's screams weren't like music to Odette's ears, but they made her feel a different sensation than his sons screams did.

She decided that he needed to be alone for a bit, to take in what he had done. He looked in her direction and saw as she nodded and closed the wooden door behind her again.

"I'm Odette." She said to the young man, who had now kneeled over Davina. He looked at her with a familiar sparkle in his eye.

"Kaleb."

"She'll be fine, Kaleb. Don't worry about it."

He sighed and got up from his knees one at a time before sitting down on the couch.

"You're a Cunningham witch." He said. Odette hummed in reply and took one of the pillows of the couch, then she gently moved Davina's head so she could lay the pillow under it.

"It'd be best not to move her for at least half an hour, by then the spell will have done its work and you can give her a more comfortable place to rest."

"Cunningham witches are the only witches who exclusively use Latin."

"You're right about that one. All the people who ever spoke Latin are dead, so we are taught it is the most magical language that exists." She stared at the door, wondering if she wanted to go out yet. Wanted to see him in this dark hour.

"Your coven is legendary."

A tiny smirk formed on Odette's face. If only all these enamored witches knew of the things that happened behind those walls, of the -not Latin- words that were spoke there.

She held onto the door clink, "you take care of that girl, Kaleb. She is special."

He nodded, "I know."

The door seemed to open on its own, on the arm holding onto it a cut had formed. Not deep, but deep enough that it would take a while to close itself up. She approached him with care, as he stared down at his father at his feet.