Niklaus Mikaelson had attended his fair share of balls. With centuries of living under his belt, these gatherings didn’t seem to excite him as they once did in the past. Plus, the modern age, bless it, felt astonishingly close to imitation. It could never compare to his day, not to him at least.
A command from his mother yet disguised as a request.
Esther never summoned her children without purpose. And her latest act of reuniting the family, as she would call it, left a feeling of restlessness lingering in his body. Deep down, Klaus knew she was planning something, he felt it in every last bone in his ever so immortal body.
He just didn’t know what. Not yet.
For now, he would just sip his champagne and wait for this dreadful evening to come to an end.
Elijah appeared at his side, adjusting the cufflinks to his suit. “You could at least attempt to look as though you are enjoying yourself,” he said quietly.
A familiar, faint smile touched Klaus’s lips. He swirled the champagne in his glass before glancing at his brother.
“Of course, brother. I should feign amusement while we mingle amongst incompetent mortals and pretend our mother isn’t orchestrating some grand conspiracy against our very existence.”
“You assume our mother is not being fairly forthcoming regarding her purpose,” Elijah stated, though it was more of a question than anything.
Klaus could only widen his smile. “You’ve always remained utterly optimistic concerning our mother and her poorly executed schemes. Quite foolish if you ask me.”
Elijah hummed. “Perhaps that is so.”
Klaus’s eyes scanned the room of mere mortals, landing on the doppelgänger and her useless cluster of friends. The only person he’d deemed compelling was missing.
“Curious,” he murmured, gaze fixed on the group. “The doppelgänger arrives, flanked as always by her insufferably loyal entourage… and yet the Bennett witch, charming as she is, has chosen not to attend.”
Elijah’s attention shifted towards the bunch as well. “I must remind you that the girl attempted to kill you.”
“Ah, you see, dear brother. If I recall correctly, you were the one who arranged for that to transpire,” Klaus said, bringing the glass up to his lips. He took a slow sip, his eyes drifting deliberately towards Elena, offering her a deferential wave.
On the outside, it looked genuine. But to those who really knew Klaus, it was anything but. He watched as she visibly tensed, leaning over to frantically whisper something into Stefan’s ear.
His smile widened at that. Klaus placed his attention back on his brother. “On the contrary, the ambitious witch almost succeeded.” He turned the glass between his fingers, smug as ever. “Not a single soul, much less a human, has come so… close to slaying the wild beast known as myself. That is what makes her intriguing.”
“Niklaus, she is not some trinket for your amusement.” Elijah finally turned to look at Klaus, expression settling into something more resolute.
Faster than Klaus could respond, a familiar, bubbly voice cut through the crowd.
“Bonnie, you made it! Oh my goodness, you look amazing.” The voice belonged to Caroline, practically beaming as she rushed to greet her friend. Klaus didn’t realize he’d taken a step forward until he’d been only a few feet away from the group.
She’d came, and she looked more breathtaking than he could imagine. Bonnie flashed a shy, yet poised smile at her friends. “Sorry it took me so long, I had to go out and get a last-minute dress.” She preformed a small, playful bow. “So, how do I look?”
“Are you kidding?” Elena indignantly interjected. “You look wonderful, Bonnie.”
Klaus remained still, unusually so.
Stunned wasn’t the word he would use to describe himself at this moment. Really, he didn’t think any word could depict what he was feeling. All he could do is stand there, dumbfounded, and soak up the beauty in front of him.
Her long, brown hair cascaded down her bare shoulders in gorgeous curls, framing the shape of her face with softness that hid exactly what she was capable of. The deep purple of her ball gown did not merely exist with her skin, it complimented it, catching the light in a way that made it difficult to look elsewhere.
His grip tightened on his glass as his throat suddenly felt dry despite the amount of champagne he’d consumed just seconds ago.