Empty Crown ⚜ Klaus Mikaelson

25. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖

Imelda didn't know where to go. For the first time since the end of summer, she felt like she had nowhere to go to.

The Boarding House, the Apartment, the Hospital, even her own home, the place she was born in, didn't feel right. Nothing felt right as she sat on her knees in the dirt. Her blood stained hands drove her hunger insane but the tremble in them kept herself at bay.

A hybrid.

Imelda Fell was a hybrid long before she said she'd become one. Who could she blame other than herself? If she hadn't killed Alaric, she'd still be a vampire and he'd be dead. Not dead for a few hours and come back dead, but the real, certified only come back as a ghost, dead.

"Little One." Mikael was crouched before her. "I am here, Little One. I am with you." The urge to stretch his hand forth and pull from her all of her grief crashed over him. Yet there was nothing he could do.

Mikael thought being seen as weak was the worst pain; he had been a fool. The worst pain, the pain that left him breathless and teary eyed like a child, was seeing his own child filled with such grief and knowing that nothing, not a damn thing, could be done.

Imelda recoiled, her trembling hands dug into the dirt. "It stinks." She murmured. It wasn't her blood, it was the blood of her father. She buried her hands but her dress was stained. The scent and harsh reality was imprinted onto her soul and now would never leave.

"I know." Mikael stood, as if he could force her to stand as well.

"What are you?" His voice commanded, he wouldn't let her fall, he wouldn't let her sink into her fear and sorrow. He saw what it had done to his flesh and blood, he would not lose her to it.

"A liar."

"What are you?" Mikael's voice rose an octave, as if he hadn't heard her reply.

Imelda flinched. "A hybrid."

Mikael shook his head, hearing her clearly. "What are you?"

"What are you, Imelda?!"

Mikael began screaming, repeating himself over and over like a broken record. Imelda couldn't handle it. She shot up, her hands coiling and flexing as she bared her fangs and growled. Her eyes shifted.

"What do you want from me?!" Imelda shrieked. Her voice matched his in volume but only the world could hear her and she hated it.

"I'm a liar! I'm a hybrid! I'm the girl who killed her dad because she didn't want to be alone again! I'm a monster!"

Imelda's body was sent hurtling backward. She crashed against the ground but was up and growling dangerously at Mikael. His gaze was dark, his lips formed into a scowl. He appeared before her, standing close and holding his hand out, inches from her cheek.

"You are a warrior, Imelda." Mikael spoke softly and firmly, it washed away Imelda's rise of anger. It elicited a whimper but he refused to let her look away.

"You are more than a vampire or werewolf. You are a natural hybrid but this is not what defines you. So tell me, what are you?"

Imelda felt teas cascade down her cheeks. "I'm, I'm a,-"

She shook her head, lifting her bloodied and dirt covered hands to cover her mouth as the will to stand faded and she collapsed once more. Mikael followed her on the way down. She squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing so hard her entire frame shook.

"What are you, Little One." Mikael grew desperate to remind her of what she truly was, of who she truly was. "Tell me, what have you always been, deep inside your very soul. What are you?"