Elijah looked down at his phone, hesitating slightly. She would surely be able to calm Niklaus. She'd down so in the past. Whenever his brother was on the brink of doing something that would possibly cause a war, Elijah would call Magdalena. After all, she was probably Niklaus' favorite sire.
It had to be a little under a year after the siblings had turned Lucien, Tristan, and Aurora and fled when Klaus spotted her. Even from afar he could see she looked different from the many aristocrats they'd been meeting. She was petite and curvy. Her brown hair was a mess of curls and waves that fell down mid back. Unfortunately, that was not what drew Klaus to her originally. It was the overwhelm smell of blood. She was bent over, leaning a palm against the lightly flowered field to hold her up. It looked as if she had been running and fell. Tears streaked her face. What was most noticeable though, was the blood seeping through her pale cotton dress. To the day, none of his siblings knew why Klaus hadn't just killed her on the spot or left her to die. Instead, he bent down, biting into his wrist. He pressed it against her lips and spoke quietly.
After a moment of no response, he felt a struggled attempt. She slumped forward though, collapsing into Klaus' awaiting arms. He carried her back to where his siblings and he were staying, not bothering to answer the many questions that flew at him.
Elijah shook away the hesitation and pressed the call button. After three long rings, he heard her voice come through the phone.
"Hello? Elijah, is this you?"
Elijah opened his mouth but paused before continuing to speak.
"Magdalena, I need your help with Niklaus."
He heard a slight sigh and shuffling in the background. Before she spoke, he heard a door slam and the quiet sounds of cars driving by.
"I've only been away for a bit, Elijah..."
"I sincerely disagree fifty years as a bit. Where are you?"
Elijah couldn't help but sound annoyed as if he was scolding a child.
Magdalena's voice shrunk as she spoke. She had always hated when Elijah would scold her.
"How fast can you get to New Orleans?"
"I'll be there tomorrow. And Elijah?"
Elijah let out a sigh of relief as Magdalena's voice returned to normal.
"How many times do I have to tell you it's only Lena!?"
Elijah chuckled softly.
"I'll see you tomorrow Lena."
Lena sighed as she packed her bags. She had compelled her way onto a flight to New Orleans moments after Elijah had called, barely caring about the mess she had left in her hotel room. Two men were sprawled across the bed, both drained of blood. A woman was laying across the floor, possibly still bleeding out. She couldn't be bothered. After all, she'd been taught by Nik not to care about the chaos one left in their wake. Especially if you knew you weren't going to get into trouble for it. She smirked to herself and continued down the terminal to the plane.
Hours later, Lena found herself in New Orleans. She stole a pretty midnight black sports car in one of the rental car places and sped towards her destination. After stopping for a small snack that consisted of two girls trying to hitch hike a ride, Lena found herself pulling up to the address Elijah had texted her. A mansion stood in front of her. She remembered the place vaguely, but she decided not to dwell on the memories too much as she walked into the mansion, shutting the door behind her. Seconds later, she heard someone come towards her. She spun around to see Elijah standing in the doorway to the living room.
“Good. You did come.”
“As I said I would. Sometimes, I fear you don’t trust me much, Elijah.”
Lena heard a voice that was extraordinarily familiar speak up from behind her. It was a voice she swore she even heard in her sleep.
“Do you blame him, love?”
Lena spun on her heels, launching herself into Klaus’ open arms. Klaus chuckled and hugged her back before holding her out at arm’s length.
“You look the same, Lena. Absolutely marvelous as always.”
Lena giggled as Elijah cleared his throat. Her giggles cut off.
“So, what is it you called me here for, Elijah? What have you been up to Nik?”
“Oh, you know, not much. Just trying to take back control over New Orleans.”
“And who’s in control now?”
“Do you remember Marcellus?”
Klaus smiled, remembering how much she had feuded with Marcel. They never got along much. Lena preferred to be the only one Klaus dotted on. When Marcel was just a boy, she had no problem with him. But then he’d gotten cockier as he got older and Lena had little patience to begin with.
“He’s in charge of New Orleans? How the hell did he manage that?” she said as she placed a hand on her hip. Lena smirked at her sire. “Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to help you.”