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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year

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04| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Elijah Mikaelson x niece!reader Summary: A while after the party, you're approached by Elijah at Rousseau's who has a request that you would've never expected. Warnings: none Words: 3.1K

Masterlist | Part 5

I shook a cocktail shaker vigorously before pouring whatever pink liquid it was into a glass and sliding it over to the customer on the other side of the counter, running a hand through my hair right afterward as I glanced around at the full bar.

Full fucking bar and I'm the only person here.

Camille had a date with Marcel tonight, but there was no one else who could possibly take her shift tonight because there was no one else working tonight. I told her I could cover for her because I had experience bartending in the eighties, but I didn't know it was gonna be like this.

I guess there was some sort of festival going on tonight, but in New Orleans, when isn't there?

It's been a week since the Mikaelsons through their party, a week since I had my 'family reunion', and I haven't seen any of them since. Don't know if I'm happy about that or not.

I sighed, tossing back a shot of my own before moving onto the next customer. I'll overthink later.

"Drinking on the job?" Or not.

Speak of the fucking devil, because I looked up and, sitting in the stool in front of me, was Elijah Mikaelson. He had a small, playful smirk on his lips, leaned back in his chair nonchalantly, but not in a way that made him look like he wasn't alert, but in a way that showed the world he wouldn't even dream of someone stepping to him.

I forced a laugh, wiping down a glass while I responded, "Yeah, well it's a little hard to be surrounded by all this and not get any." He smiled, nodding while I threw the rag over my shoulder. Inside, I was shaking, but I tried my hardest to treat him like he was any other person so he wouldn't take notice.

I raised my brows. "Let me guess, whiskey? No- bourbon?" I didn't wait for a reply and grabbed the bottle while Elijah chuckled.

"Bourbon would be nice, thank you, Y/N," he said. I wonder if he had an inkling how freaked out I was that he remembered my name.

Half of me was hoping they'd forget all about me. The other half, well... I tried not to give that one a microphone.

I handed him the glass in a hurry, hoping to get away from him as fast as possible, but of course, the universe wasn't so kind because he stopped me, calling my name when I turned around.

Fuckkkk. I screwed my eyes shut before spinning back around with that perfect customer service smile on my face.

"Good luck," he said, and my brows furrowed. He saw the confusion on my face and nodded to the rest of the bar, elaborating, "With the customers." I held in a sigh of relief and smiled to him in thanks, moving on.

I'd normally ask customers how they were doing, what brought them to Rousseau's, but not only did I not have enough time what with all the customers, but I also did not feel like making conversation with Elijah Mikaelson after I've been drinking.

So, to resolve my frazzled state that was typically caused by drinking, I drank some more. And I continued to work, per usual, trying to bring my mind back to positive memories of me in the past instead of the dramas of my present.

I was in auto-pilot, serving customers while drifting off into a world of my own, thinking about a time when I wasn't so obsessed with finding my family. The reason why was that I already had one.

My mother and I were very close when I was young, and she did everything she could to protect me before the world took her from me, taking me in the process. Niklaus, obviously, was never in the picture.

He and his entire family did not even know I existed. For all I knew, Klaus just had a one-night stand with my mother and never saw her again. So there was no way he could ever find out who I was, not on his own. But Elijah... Elijah was as smart as Klaus was strong. I didn't want to talk to him too often and have him put together any puzzle pieces.

The night went on without any interruptions. I periodically checked the clock. Rousseau's closed a bit later than usual bars since it was in the middle of the Quarter, but I only had about an hour left before both my shift was over and the bar closed. Thank the heavens.

Things were going as smoothly as far as I could tell what with me half listening to everything going on, but suddenly, I was brought back to my sense by someone yelling.

My head shot up and, on the other side of the bar, I saw two people I recognized almost immediately, a man and a woman. The man was a member of Marcel's crew, and the girl was a witch I was familiar with since Marcel left the witch dealings to me back when practicing magic wasn't punishable by fucking death.

The vampire, Dimitri, was yelling obscenities at Talia, the witch, as she yelled over him. He went to shove her and, without thinking, I rushed over in a blur and blocked him with my arm, separating them both.

"Break it up right. now," I ordered, glaring at them both but mostly Dimitri. He always bugged me. The bar was less full now and I could tell that people had stopped to watch the encounter.

Talia crossed her arms and Dimitri glared back at me. "She's being a fucking bitch, Y/N-"

She scoffed, "Oh, would you just-"

I raised my voice. "Both of you, enough!" They both stopped and stared at me. "As far as I'm concerned, neither of you should even be talking to each other right now, much less arguing or physically fighting. That's violating so many different agreements at once." This time Dimitri scoffed and so I turned to him, raising a brow, feeling the annoyance in me bubble. "What, do you have something to say?"

He looked at me and smirked in a way that made me want to bite into his neck or turn his blood to acid, and responded, "Yeah- those were your rules when Marcel ran the city and let his bitch boss us around-"

I cut him off, an incredulous look on my face. "His what?"

He ignored me. "But the Mikaelsons are in charge now, and he is not," he boasted. "Which means- neither are you." His smirk widened like he'd just made some huge declaration, like he was in the one in control here.

But he couldn't be more wrong. You see, Marcel left negotiations to me, knowing I could talk to people a little better than he could. And since I kept the peace for him, he let me make a few rules. I was in charge, and I'd be damned if I let some newbie vampire think he bested me.

I took a step closer to him, ready to fucking tell him how it is, but before I could even get a word out, someone had sped right next to me and cut me off.

I looked up, startled, and was even more surprised when I saw that the man that had sped over was Elijah. Fan-fuckin-tastic.

Talia took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself while Dimitri swallowed. Elijah smiled a tight-lipped smile, staring at Dimitri in a way that would be perceived to be friendly if it were anyone else, but with him, it just looked condescending. With one gaze, he was saying he was better than you without ever really having to say it.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but I would rather not stand and watch this altercation from the sidelines," he expressed. "See, in my time, you'd treat a woman with respect, and it looks to me that you are treating both of these young women with anything but." I held back a snort at the 'young' bit. I'm older than Dimitri by a long shot, but I get the memo.

Dimitri stuttered back, but couldn't form a response. "I-"

"You what? You think that because the Mikaelsons are in charge now that you can run amuck and act as you please?" Elijah paused as if he was waiting for an answer and scoffed when he didn't get one. "Well, I am a Mikaelson," he announced, "and right now I am granting you the privilege of walking away from this because, from what I can see, Y/N holds more relevance than you do or ever have." Not once did he glare at Dimitri, simply holding his stare strongly, and Dimitri most definitely tried to hold that stare in challenge, but after a few seconds, he gave up, swallowing, and walking away quickly.

Elijah's lips curved slightly before they were forced down as he held back a smirk, turning to me and Talia. She nodded at Elijah--in thanks, I'd assume--and he reciprocated the action before she, too, walked away, leaving just me and him standing there.

I looked around at the rest of the bar and realized that everyone left was supernatural in one way or another, or at least knew about it because everyone had returned to their own conversations, not even batting an eye at the inhuman speed displayed.

Elijah glanced around too before looking back to me and nodding towards the door. I quickly understand the motion and nodded back. He wanted to get away from the prying ears, but I could do him one better.

I raised my voice and exclaimed to the crowd, "Sorry guys, party's over!" I heard a few groans and Elijah raised a brow at me, but I ignored it. It was closing time, anyway. "You can go home now! Like right now." I saw some people about to protest, but one look from Elijah and they were silenced. They did not want to fuck with that.

The clear-out was one of the fastest ones I'd ever seen, especially on a night like this, but in minutes, the bar was empty. When I was sure no one else was around, I finally looked at Elijah and felt my previous nervousness return, but still chastised, "I had that handled."

Instead of being offended, he gave me that same smile he's been smiling all night and told me, "I know. But I couldn't help myself." Although that was meant to be somewhat of an apology, there was a smugness in it that I couldn't stand.

I hummed in a way I hope 'bullshit' was conveyed, turning around the clean up the bar. He chuckled. Good, message received then.

Even I was a little surprised with how bold I was being, but I guess that, even after 500 years, alcohol still gave me a little courage.

I picked up the glasses people had left scattered, putting them into the sink and tidying everything up so that, tomorrow, Camille wouldn't have to deal with any of it.

"So you handled business for Marcel?" I glanced at him to see his hand casually tucked into a pocket of his slack. Again, it was such a small, insignificant stance, but there was just something about it that made you want to fold into yourself.

I looked back to the glasses I was scrubbing, affirming, "Yeah, I'd negotiate with all sides to come to agreements we could all, well, agree on, I guess."

His lip quirked up as he sat down on a barstool right in front of me. I wordlessly handed him a glass and a bottle of bourbon, and the small quirk of his lips became a grin.

While he poured himself a glass, I kept working on the dishes and decided to make small talk so I didn't look like an alien creature that didn't know how to communicate with others.

"You've been here a while, and it's just after closing now. What's the occasion- or is it more of a you just needed a drink kind of occasion?"

Even though my back was turned, it was still like I could sense him smirking. "It's the latter," he revealed. "In fact, I'm drinking because of the disagreements within the factions."

"Oh?" I kept scrubbing.

He continued, "Yes. It's the same story every time: everyone wants power and no one is satisfied with what they have."

I snorted, "Yeah, Tears For Fears wasn't kidding. Everybody really does want to rule the world." And that was a joke, but it was completely true, especially in a city like New Orleans.

"Precisely that, Y/N. And Niklaus-" I refrained from taking in a breath. "Oh, my brother is not handling it well." I'd imagine he wasn't. From what I've heard about Klaus, he didn't take kindly to people trying take what he thought was rightfully his. That's why he tried banishing Marcel, even though he was meant to be like a son to him.

I scoffed at that in my head. Klaus was a father to Marcel, raised Marcel, and was gonna raise another child in the near future, and yet he'd never even met me.

My brain was bombarded with the thoughts I tried to keep in at that moment. I wondered if he knew about me at all, if he knew and just didn't care, or if he had no idea of my existence. I wonder what he'd do if he knew. Would he care?

I pushed back those thoughts and shook my head, bringing myself back to the conversation and replying, "That's pretty expected. I mean, it took Marcel years to create what he had, and he also had me to keep the peace, too, so it's different."

Elijah hummed, briefly reminding me of Klaus. For a few seconds, all that could be heard was the scrub-a-dub-dubbing I was doing and the steady response I was getting from him stopped. Until he resumed with enough fervour to knock me out.

"And what if we had you to keep the peace for us?""

I dropped the glass I was scrubbing in shock, quickly using my speed to stop it from hitting the sink and breaking. I put the glass down and turned the faucet off, turning to face him fully. I was half expecting to see a smile on his face, for him to tell me he was joking, but he had a completely serious look on his face.

If I didn't know any better, I'd see he even looked hopeful.

I looked at him, analyzing his face for a few seconds before lowering my guard slightly for the first time around a Mikaelson and whispering, "Oh my God, you're not kidding."

He smiled a little. "No, Y/N, I'm afraid I'm not." I blew out a breath through my lips, feeling the gears in my head turn 70 miles an hour.

What the fuck?

He's asking me to work for them.

My family.

Me.

Klaus' daughter.

But they don't know that.

No, they don't know about my relation to them. But Elijah does know that Marcel's my friend. I made this known, just in case he forgot in the few seconds it'd been since it'd been brought up. "You do know Marcel's my friend, right? Maybe even my best friend, if you want to get technical."

He took a sip of his bourbon before responding, "Yes, I'm aware."

I nodded. "Right, so then you know why I cant accept that offer." I wasn't thinking about the opportunity or power or really anything important at that moment. I was thinking about Marcel. And I was thinking about how coincidental it was that, a week after I got back to the city, Elijah takes interest in me of all people.

Maybe it's not a coincidence, my subconscious reasoned.

Oh, but hell, I really hoped it was.

Elijah took another sip of his drink. "You know these people, they trust you." I gave him a look, but hid my skepticism at the way he phrased his sentence. He said it like he already knew about my history with the factions. Honestly, knowing him, he probably did.

He used my silence and went on, "Arrangements could be made about Marcellus." My brows raised at that. "I'm fine with negotiating, Y/N."

I narrowed my eyes. He was to trying to broker a deal with me. Smart. But a Mikaelson choosing to negotiate for someone with as little 'relevance' as me is odd, to say the least.

I stared at him for a few seconds before stating the obvious. "I have a feeling your brother wouldn't like what exactly you're offering me."

Elijah chuckled, shaking his head. "Believe me, Y/N, I don't have much care for what my brother does or doesn't like at the moment."

I pursed my lips, running it all over in my head in disbelief that I was even considering it. The offer alone was suspicious, but the situation was riskier than many situations I'd put myself into in my lifetime, and that was saying something.

I'd been chasing after the Mikaelsons for ages, watching the family I never got from a distance, the always and forever I wasn't apart of. Right now, Elijah Mikaelson was offering up the opportunity to see them up close on a silver platter, and I was hesitant?

I held Elijah's stare, contemplating. And perhaps it was the alcohol that made the decision for me, but soon enough I found my mouth opening, words spilling out of it. "Marcel is allowed back into the Quarter, and him and Klaus call a truce." He didn't flinch. "You agree to that, and you have yourself a deal."

Elijah continued to stare at me in silence for a few seconds after that, and as time passed, I began to think I royally fucked up, trying to order him around, but he proved me a wrong by holding a hand out. I looked at it in bewilderment.

"You have yourself a deal, Miss Y/L/N." I held back any surprise at the fact that he knew my surname when I never gave it to him, but really, there was nothing to be surprised about.

I reluctantly reached out and clasped my hand in his, ignoring the rush of power I felt when my skin made contact with his and tried not to show it on my face.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

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