𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒
Chapter Nine | The Nostalgic Exchange

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SO FAR KALLIOPE LIKED ALARIC AND HIS SARCASTIC, SELF-DEPRECIATING quips. They humored her more than she'd like to admit. In fact, she could deeply relate to most of them. Perhaps, that's why she found them so amusing to hear. Her inner turmoil brought out from the shadows.

She could also see why Damon enjoyed his company. Both men deflected their feelings to the tee. A protective mechanism built up after enduring harsh circumstances. Kalliope was interested in what exactly Damon had been through over the years.

Speaking of which, Kalliope loved being reunited with Damon. Don't get her wrong, the years apart could definitely be felt between them. The gravity of near death experiences being all for null, could shake up any normal connection. Sort of like finding out a love one takes their death - well - it was exactly like that.

The relationship had to built from the shabbles in which they left it. Trust had to be restored. Honestly and the vulnerability that came so easy in the 1800s. Now, the world had grown darker than it was before - or - people had become more aware of the blackness that covered the earth. Either way, Kalliope was more than willing to put in the effort.

She just hoped Damon was too.

Some things still needed to be said. The anxious tension between them was tangible. They felt such love and anger so passionately. She knew when they did get everything off their chests, an explosion of sorts would consume all things around them.

As of this moment, she was savoring the smoky scent of his leather jacket as she laid her head against him in the town's grill.

"So, you two were... married?" Alaric coughed out, scratching at his head to try and get a grasp on the concept.

"Yes," Damon and Kalliope answered at the same time. Their tones wistful for simpler times.

Alaric stared between them before shaking his head. "I can't believe that." Setting his eight ounce glass on the table next to Kalliope's empty fry basket and strawberry shake. As actions speak louder than words: Kalliope loved the food now more than in the 1800s.

"What is there to believe? We were happy for a little over a year." She curled a strand of mousse brown hair behind her ear, fiddling with her wedding ring she still wore to this day.

"That someone can tolerate Damon long enough to say 'Yes' to him, let alone marry him." The Eldest Salvatore faked a sarcastic laugh, glaring at his friend though he knew it was somewhat true.

The Genie was amused, grinning wide. "Yes, well - the options were limited back then. I took what I got," She shrugged, allowing herself to relax in this new century. In the corner of her eye, Damon was squinting his crystal blues, causing her to nudge him gently. "Don't be a spoil sport, you stole me right from under Stefan's nose."

Rolling his eyes in annoyance at the mention of his brother, he knocked his ring clad finger against the hardwood table. "You were too old for him anyway. You needed a more mature outlook on life," He complimented himself, arching a suggestive brow.

Kalliope wrinkled her nose with a sheepish smile. Sharing a look with him she could only distinguish as cheeky. maybe even flirtacious. Her cheeks bloomed with a rosy red, but she embraced the flushed expression confidently.

That was the thing about Kalliope that Damon always adored. Whereas he tried and failed to hide his emotions away, she wore them openly. Whether it be ugly sobbing over something heart breaking or feeling butterflies in her stomach. She was vulnerable to all, secretive to none who'd listen.

"Anyway, we married and everything was wonderful for a time. But... then, it wasn't." Kalliope shook herself of Damon's hypnotic charm, continuing the story of their short life together. At the reminder, the Salvatore frowned.

"I'm guessing a doppleganger happened?"

"Yep," Damon blurted with a disgrunted expression.

Wanting to move on to a safer topic, Kalliope drummed her fingers against the table. Filling the tense silence. "So about... Elena. Does anyone know why she looks like Katherine?"

Ric sat forward in his seat, ignoring how his vampire friend tensed at the doppleganger's name. "You've met Elena?"

"Actually, Stefan and Elena dropped me off here in his racing car -? Before they went on an excursion. Something about a cabin. I assume they are a..." She looked to Damon for the proper terminology, to which him nodded approvingly to her slient line of thought. It was a miracle they still had these silent conversations down. "Couple."

Damon scoffed, running a hand in his hair to deflect the situation. "Yeah, that's a long story. Little strange if you ask me," He pursed his lips, turning his pointer finger around his ear.

Kalliope didn't understand his peculiar expression; however, she knew having a lover who looked exactly like the woman who brought chaos to Mystic Falls was something psychologically draining. She personally wondered why Stefan chose Elena out of everyone in the entire world. She must be someone special, other than her physical appearance phenomenon.

"Is he happy?" Kalliope wondered aloud, hopeful.

Ric scratched the back of his neck, appearing awkward and uncomfortable. "He is - well, probably not right now. We've just found out Elena is going to be needed for this ritual sacrifice by an Original vampire. And if we interfere, the entire town could be slaughtered."

The Genie gaped for a moment before snapping her parted mouth closed. She blinked sluggishly. Kalliope was expecting anything else. Something about social issues or their desires in life being completely opposite. Maybe they were in a dry spot in their relationship. But no, this was far more outrageous.

"Woah," She rubbed her fingernail over her bottom lip, a little overwhelmed by the havoc she was just summoned into. Of course, she had been through worse. But she hadn't had a century long break before being tossed into action. She instantly thought of what danger Jenna could be in.

Kalliope somehow had grown protective over her master. More so than anyone else. Jenna was human, to her knowledge and that was a vulnerability in itself - a beautiful one - but one nonetheless. Especially, when everyone around her was dealing with supernatural sheinanigans.

"Speaking of, I trust this Elijah Smith as far as I can throw him."

The Genie recalled, if correctly, this was the second time that name had been brought up. Once with Jenna and now here. Kalliope supposed he had a greater importance than she originally thought. "Did you get anything out of him?" Damon inquired with suspicion clouding his expression.

"No, it was boring. Of course, Jenna thinks he's charming." At the rolling of his eyes, Kalliope arched a knowing brow.

"You sound jealous. Sound a bit jealous?" Damon glanced to his ex-wife, pursing his lips.

"I do believe you sound quite jealous, Alaric." She folded her hands on the table, smiling at him with a little mirth. Suppose, this is the moment she realizes Jenna and Alaric are, indeed, involved. She found love adorable, especially young love.

"Don't worry, my friend. I just need the right opportunity and then -" Damon made a slicing sound with his mouth, cutting his finger across his neck to emphasize his point.

Kalliope furrowed her brow, laying a hand on Damon's arm. "Wait, so were murdering this Elijah Smith because Jenna fancies him? Isn't that a little extreme, dear?"

The two drinking friends shared a glance before the Eldest Salvatore settled on pinching her cheek. Quite frankly, Kalliope found the act patronizing. "No, Flore. It's much worse than that, trust me."

"But -" Damon shushed her, watching as Jenna and Elijah Smith entered the grill together.

"Ah, there's Jenna with her new boyfriend, now."

Alaric didn't look too happy about that, not that Kalliope blamed him. She slapped Damon's hand away, glaring acutely. When she turned her brown gaze to Jenna, imagine her suprise when she stumbled upon someone she had the pleasure of knowing, too. A slient gasp tore through Kalliope's lips and she instantly felt her fight or flight instinct wash over her like a tsunami. That was no Elijah Smith, that was Elijah Mikaelson.

An Original... and someone who she shared a past with.

Unknowingly, Damon wrapped his arm around her. Keeping the Genie in her spot despite her dire desire to run.

"Hey guys," Jenna greeted with a small smile before she stopped on Kalliope under the Eldest Salvatore's arm. "Kalliope! What are you doing here?"

She seemed pleased to see her, albeit confused why she was hanging around Damon of all people. Kalliope sent her a sheepish smile, bowing her head as her eyes flickered towards a certain someone, nervously. "Jenna, I have history with Damon here. Are you well?"

"I'm good," She shrugged, not sensing the estranged tension between the group members. Damon and Alaric to Elijah. Elijah to - surprisingly, Kalliope. A woman he had not seen in many, many centuries, but a pleasant sight nonetheless.

"Ms. Debonair, what a surprise." Elijah spoke her name like a gentle caress, instantly gaining the eyes of everyone in their circle.

The Genie blushed profusely, wanting to shrink within herself, but decided to take the embarrassment in stride. She glanced at Elijah's offered hand and placed her own within it. Her eyes widening briefly as he pressed a kiss to the back of her palm. "Likewise. It has been... some time, no? You look well."

Kalliope felt her french originated accent come back like it never faded. Her throat felt thick and she could feel the room closing in on her. She felt claustrophobic wedged in this booth with Damon. Her forehead threatened to break out in a sweat. The most dire memory she recalled with him rushed before her minds eye without her permission. The devastation she was under at the time, weighing heavy on her heart even now.

THIRTEEN SIXTY

IN TIMES LIKE THIS, WHEN THE DAYS ARE LONG AND THE SUN IS nowhere in sight, Kalliope dreads her every waking breath. The sky was too stubborn to show her the blue day. The night was far too brisk and cold for dreaming. She was staggent, grasping for straws for just a glimpse of hope.

The search was for null.

Kalliope smoothed down her kirtle, a loose fitted gown that trail to her ankles. Her long curly brown hair hung in two braids down her back, ringlets caressing the roundness of her face. The Genie was an effortless beauty, but she did not care for it at all.

Over the last couple years, she had lost her passions. The love and light within her heart had quenched. And she no longer found purpose in the everyday, but often saw it a complete waste of her affections.

She had no desire to live it, but was cursed with the inescapable immortality by some celestial force she could not name. There was no quick and silent mercy for this entity.

"Must you gaze out in that horrid weather. It brings not a thing more than dread." A man she had come into the acquaintance of, against her will - might she add, spoke a in a strong oak of a voice. Like thunder it boomed, like silk, it persuaded. Kalliope found herself conflicted every time within his presence.

Slicing her brown eyes to the candle stick within her steady hand, she only dignified him with a response out of her own boredom.

"It is to be free, that I cast my gaze out. The birds seek not, for they fear no one, whereas I seek endlessly and fear all." Setting the poorly crafted candle holder on the cobblestone seal, she finally turned to Elijah Mikaelson. An overseer of her stayings at the manner. Some would say, a puppet for his confidants ruling. Well, that is how she saw it.

"As you can imagine, my Lord. Dreariness is but a common emotion."

Elijah laid his eyes over her radiant form. The warm glow cast over her toned skin made for the most perfect portrait. One, he wouldn't mind staring at for more than an appropriate time. Her french descent and maiden looks were simply eye-catching. However, Kalliope held no joy. No thrill or playfulness that most women shyly hid behind curtains of hair.

She was blunt, robust, and certainly unafraid to express her most jarring feelings. At first, he thought the personality repugnant and a youthful show of insolence. And yet, now - there was something unapologetically fascinating about the entire cadence. She was Kalliope and none could change that but herself.

"Forgive me, for my impertinence. Shall I take my leave?" He clasped his hands behind his back, a proud stance for an accomplished gentlemen in the 14th century if Kalliope ever seen one.

Sighing lowly to herself, she realized there was no where else to go. No one else to see - well, except one or two. And they... better yet He. Let's just say Kalliope had to regain her wits to be in such an awesome presence.

Wrapping her palm around two fingers as she squeezed them tight, she bowed her head humbly. "No. I shall think not. Perhaps saddness seeks a certain... company."

Turning back towards the obscenely viewing window, Kalliope did not wait for his response. Her breath was held as the clouds above thundered their vengeance on the begotten world. A loud crash of her crumbling heart. She sought no peace, but begged for recompence. When the sky cried its resignation, knowing its pleas would not be heard nor amended, Elijah joined Kalliope by the seal.

She stepped aside to give one another space, although there was not much. His wide shoulders took up half of the room and suffocated that much more. Elijah was a sophisticated man, that was sure when she first met him. On a night just like this one.

She was cold, wet and shivering, not that she had any reason to care. Kalliope could not grow sick or weary. Her soul could break but her flesh would not bend. It was when the lightning struck and she looked upon two handsome gents' faces that she knew her fate had taken a darker turn than ever before.

That was when the Genie suddenly had a new master... and his name went by Niklaus.

"Why is it your tongue sounds of another dialect, French it must be. But when we found you, it was in Sicily?"

Kalliope glanced to the tip of her nose, watching the rain drops collect on the cobblestone window. Nothing hindered the moist breeze from slanting against her face, reminding her of the open sea. "If you must ask, my Lord, I fear you have not been listening. Hath your... Leader thought of his wish?"

Elijah gravelly shook his head. He could tell what this family, this place has done to her spirits. Kalliope did not care to be owned and certainly didn't like such ownership to be baited over her head. Nonetheless, there wasn't anything he could do. Niklaus did as he pleased.

"He has not. Take care, fair Lady Kalliope. If I know Niklaus, his wish will not come any sooner. Such a prize, is not to be... relinquished frivilously."

His words only soured her mood. "There is no hope for me yet and I must lay my burdens down with you. My words are grave, but... no less true." She swallowed, wringing her hands as she warily looked over the windows ledge as the ground led three stories down.

Rain collected on the back of her head, slipping down her cheeks. It felt like the skies tears were weeping for her. Doing something she could not afford to. Even they were free, dropping wherever they wished. Why couldn't she?

"Lady Kalliope," Elijah started, watching her bend at the waist with slowly building alarm.

"Forgive me, for I am to speak out of turn, but my passions lie with the long buried, Mr. Mikaelson. How is it, that they make even the horrifying experiences seem so freeing. So - so very spiritual and yet not one desires it as much as I." Tears finally brought from her glistening brown eyes. The stain of them quivered down her rounded cheeks till they soaked into her chemise.

Elijah was caught off guard by such a melancholy display of emotion. His mouth ran dry as she watched the ground wistfully. A certain twinkle in her eyes that chilled his very soul.

"There is not one left who will miss me, my Lord. I assure you." Making up her mind, Kalliope shoved a nearby chair by the wall opening.

Her limbs shook as she ascended the clothed throne, eyes seeing beyond this very moment. She wanted to be a bird. She wanted to fly - to be free of inhabitions. Of the faces she saw every time she closed her eyes. Lost loved ones and surviors guilt battled within her compassionate heart until it bled dry.

She wanted to be with them. Be with her dear Guillaume and little baby Florence, wherever they are. Kalliope needed them desperately or she wouldn't know how to go on.

Elijah and Niklaus had caught her at the lowest point in her entire existence. A ghastly black plague had swept the land. Infecting her husband and two year old baby as well as hundreds of thousands of the others. Only she so graciously survived and it had to do with her dreadful curse. Death had been merciful with Kalliope, where she has not with her very own child. Kalliope thought it a hex, one she endlessly wanted to be rid of.

And as the pads of her feet stood in the open window, slightly slipping on the dampness of the stones, Elijah didn't know what to do. It was so sudden and she moved so quickly. His heart stopped at the appalling act.

Both of his siblings were outwardly passionate people. Acting on impulses that were getting worse and worse by the decade, but never was it this. To this caliber. It was so worryingly final.

Her foot knocked the candle stick over the wall and it fell in a cladder into the thorn bushes below. "I simply want to try," She whispered, coaching herself, persuading herself to take the next step.

Elijah rushed to secure her by the waist, but before he could do so, a voice bellowed amongst the two. More powerful and deep than Elijah had ever heard before. It brought the two to a halt.

Kalliope turned swiftly to witness thr face to said voice, but when her cocoa eyes trained on those glimmery ocean eyes, heavy rain blurred her own sight. Not a second later, she finally slipped from the window seal with barely a cry from her parted lips.

PRESENT TIME

"YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?" Damon broached with more stress and jealousy than necessary, shaking Kalliope out of her nostalgic stupor. He grasped her hand from Elijah, much like he did with Alaric earlier. His brow set deep.

"I - yes," Kalliope implored with her eyes how desperately she wanted to wait and tell him later. Hoping to convey, like old times, what she was feeling in this moment. That it wasn't the right time. To everyone who knew Damon's shock, he agreed with a single nod. Giving her space to tell him later, because she would be telling him everything later, if he had any say about it.

"So I hear you two had quite a meeting of historical minds today," He changed the subject, keeping her hand within his own to make sure she didn't scurry away.

Jenna nodded, eyeing her newest friend and Genie skeptically. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Alaric reached into his wallet for some cash and placed in on the table between them. Gathering his things so he could hightail it out of this awkward situation. "Well, as much as I would like to continue this. I've got papers to grade."

Seeing Jenna's forlong expression, Kalliope acted fast, sitting up in the booth. "Oh, please Alaric, don't go. I've only just met you."

Damon took her genuine request and turned it into his own plan, smiling smugly. "Full of great ideas, babe. Yeah, we should continue this. Have a dinner party, I'll host. Say tonight?"

The Sommer's lady instantly agreed, liking the idea of any type of fellowship. "Yeah, I'm free."

Only then, did Kalliope respond. Wanting to watch out for her Master. "That should be fun. I haven't been to a gathering in ages."

Elijah, who had kept a close eye on the Genie for the entire conversation, parted his lips in a charismatic smize."It'll be a pleasure," He spoke the words with elegance no man could match. Kalliope finally let her doe brown gaze meet his own and she suddenly wondered if it was a mistake.

Her heart quickened irrationally. The shadows of her past creeping out from the rafters and ditches within her mind. Just his de-robbing stare was enough to elict a chill down her spine. Something unwanted yet unavoidable all the same.

Alaric sighed, knowing he'd come to watch out for his girlfriend. And... to properly feed into his jealousy. "Great. Guess I'll be there."

"Great," Damon echoed, narrowing his eyes at Kalliope and Elijah exchange for more than a second.

This should be fun.

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Unedited. 02/04/2021

Oop. This just got a little darker! And I love a jealous Damon so don't mind me lol

From here on out, I won't be mentioning the date unless we're going back in time.