Paragon / Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
New Orleans was a city that had faced stark contrasts over the centuries. A frontier settlement mostly by the French at one time, soon came under the control of the new country the United States of America. New Orleans was the crown jewel of the territory that Emperor Napoleon had sold to President Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson was a shrewd man with an intelligence level higher than any of the other Founding Fathers of the fledgling nation. Even the great Benjamin Franklin could be considered a dullard and a drunken sot compared to Jefferson.~*~
Being a port at the mouth of the Mississippi River, New Orleans had a relatively clear path to the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. Many old ships with tall masts would make their way into the port of New Orleans in those days with cargoes and passengers from the Old World. One day on one of those ships came a family of two brothers, one sister and two coffins. Dressed in the finery of the Old World, the family that stepped off the ship that day had a name that would soon become steeped in the culture and the history of the city of New Orleans. They were the Mikaelson Family. Elijah, Rebekah and Niklaus Mikaelson were the hub by which the legends would be built. The Originals had come to the New World to stay.
One thousand years was more than twenty lifetimes as Rebekah had told him once. Elijah Mikaelson was a man who felt too much, too passionately and far too deeply. His hope burned that his family could be redeemed, more importantly his brother Niklaus. His brother’s redemption kept him coming back when he should have given up centuries prior. Elijah had held his brother’s confidence more than once throughout those years. He was always the stalwart guardian of hope and the right hand of Niklaus for far too many years that humans could comprehend. While Klaus was fiery tempered and often to rage at those around him, Elijah kept silent vigil pulling his brother back from the brink when he could and often. He believed in Klaus when no one else did. Elijah loved his brother so much that it physically hurt. This day was no exception.
The New Year’s celebration in New Orleans had been more grand than usual. Elijah had stood beside his brother raising glasses to the dawn of the new year filled with optimism and hope. Klaus smiled at him and drank a toast to the future that the two of them would face together. They were brothers. Nothing could break that bond. Elijah was bristling with optimism and pride to be at his brother’s side once more. Together Elijah and Klaus would be unstoppable. Elijah was on the top of the world. Nothing could topple him from his excitement and joy. Almost nothing…
The second day of the year, the brothers had spent a beautiful morning together. It was like the old days once more. Elijah felt five hundred years younger. It was almost like the days when they had first met Katerina Petrova in England. They were respected land owners and feared by those around them. It was a wonderful bond that they had at the time, even though Niklaus was trying to break the hybrid curse back then. It was a golden age that Elijah thought would never come back again, but it had. This new year and new decade was another chance for the elder Mikaelson brothers to be everything Elijah had believed they could be. The end of the day had left Elijah glowing with the possibilities of the future and the strength of his loyalty to his brother. He slept that night as though he was sung to blissful slumber by the very voices of the angels themselves.
The thing about his brother was that there was no greater liar in the whole of time itself. The next morning, Elijah woke up and found that Niklaus was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere. Elijah had slept longer than he had in years. The elder Mikaelson had raced through the compound. Every last sign of his brother was gone. Klaus had left in the dark of night and the wee hours of the morning while Elijah was sound asleep.
His cries of anguish tore through the compound with the most agonizing wail from the depths of his soul. Elijah was a man of his word and such a fervent believer in the bond with his brother that he didn’t question anything that had happened over the New Year’s Holiday. This had been so perfect. This had been a dream come true for Elijah. He’d simply woken the next day to find it all a profound lie.
Rebekah and Kol had tried to comfort Elijah as best as they could. Freya held tight to him letting him just collapse into his older sister with his body racked with sobs. His daughter Clarisse wouldn’t leave his side. The met human fire wielder Mary had come close to burning down New Orleans once more because of how broken the Noble Stag had become. Elijah could not be consoled even by his niece Hope who had spelled his daylight ring to his finger so he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
It was all set into motion. When they all left him for the night, he’d convinced them all he’d been fine. That night he’d climbed into his coffin and daggered himself. Lost in the depths of his own grief and betrayal, he did what he had to do. It wouldn’t kill him, he knew that. He also knew that turning off his own emotions would end up devastating for the human race as a whole because he was after all an Original Vampire. Daggering was the only answer.
Lost in the depths of that agony that only Originals understood, Elijah shut himself from the world. Even though he was buried inside the limbo where Originals could go that was half way between life and death, Elijah could still feel his connection to his sister Freya. Freya was a Mikaelson Witch after all and one of the most powerful supernatural beings in all of existence. His call from well within those depths would be heard from either Freya or Hope being powerful witches in their own right.
With the dagger being loosened by his sister, Mary arrived in time to remove it from Elijah’s chest not being indelicate either. Elijah was welcomed back by those who loved him and had come to his aid. One of his younger sirelings came to him later in that same day upon his return to tell him that Niklaus had been spotted again but back in Mystic Falls. It had caused him to retreat into the shadows in New Orleans. Elijah had sent messages to Niklaus but they were all turned away with no response. The darkness was closing in once more.
Mary had hidden the daggers with the help of Clarisse. Elijah could not once more send himself into that nowhere land that the Originals knew well. He’d locked himself away in his study with his books, brandy and cigars. Elijah was lost to the memories of the past. His own journals told stories of happier times and a brother that he loved more than he loved his own life. Was it all a lie?
He heard a voice speak to him. It was a soft voice that he’d not heard in over a century. Aveline. She was beautiful and a gifted witch. Was this what he needed to heal? Those chocolate hues had once illuminated with the promise of hope and a life that had purpose. That light was gone. Seeing Aveline had brought a faint glimmer in those eyes again. Would it be enough?