[ CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE ]

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1914, New Orleans

         As much as Kol despised his brother, he certainly knew how to throw a good ball

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         As much as Kol despised his brother, he certainly knew how to throw a good ball.

It had become somewhat of a tradition to host an annual Mikaelson Christmas party every year, one that had begun when Marcel had initially been brought into the family.

The event not only meant a great deal to the siblings and the guests, but it meant the world to Astrid, especially this year.

With Marcel joining the forces, Astrid wanted the event to be pristine as she doubted the war would end by next Christmas.

Marcel may be fighting for years, decades even; it wouldn't be the first-time humans had an-hundred-year war.

So, alongside Niklaus, Astrid had been behind every small yet significant detail, much to her husband's amusement. Niklaus had always teased her about being a perfectionist, which she had found extremely ironic coming from him.

She'd witnessed Nik spending years on a single painting, and if even the smallest of details wasn't as he'd pictured it inside his head, she'd seen him throwing the canvas across the room in one of his typical temper tantrums. Then he would restart the process all over again.

The compound itself had been decorated lavishly, Astrid had truly pushed the boat out this year. A large pine, Christmas tree was the centrepiece by the staircase, the fern decorated with hand painted baubles that told some sort of story significant to the original family.

Niklaus had been somewhat reluctant to paint over a hundred baubles with cherished memories the family adored, but it had been worth it to see his wife's reaction. 

Alongside the hundreds of beautiful baubles were chiffon festive bows tied with shreds of ribbon and enchanted candles that sat elegantly on the branches, without burning the entire tree down.

With a grin in place, Astrid happily conversed with guests as she walked across the dance floor. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, even if Astrid had lost her husband when he'd darted away to speak to Rebekah, who had looked extremely nervous.

Raising her brows, Astrid was more than curious when she noticed a girl by the bar, she was practically hiding in the shadows, her head bent downwards as if she wasn't supposed to be at the event.

Amused, Astrid approached the girl. "Are you okay there?"

The girl gasped, jolting and almost dropping her glass of champagne. "I'm totally invited and didn't sneak in!" She blurted out making Astrid snort.

"What's your name?" She challenged as the young vampire hesitated.

Biting her lip, she offered a sheepish smile. "Eve." She admitted.

From her relaxed heartrate it was evident the vampire was telling the truth. Astrid nodded.

Eve was very innocent appearing, especially for a vampire, with her wide eyes and child-like features.

𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, klaus mikaelsonWhere stories live. Discover now