Elijah Mikaelson was said to be the oldest vampire in the history of the world but standing in the middle of the rickety old church attic with a teenage witch staring at him with a small knowing smile on her face made him feel like a newly changed fledgling and he swallowed roughly as he focused on the witch's pulsing carotid artery. He was having a hard time resisting the urge to let his bloodlust overtake him and sink his fangs into her throat until she was bled dry but he tried his hardest to ignore the parched feeling in his throat.

This happened to him every time that he woke up from being daggered by his younger brother Niklaus but he was at heart a gentleman and he would rather die a real death by a white oak stake then feed from a child.

"You're the one they call honourable." Davina stated more than asked him as she tilted her head to the side and studied his face that appeared to be in his late 20's with his high cheekbones, strong jawline, and straight nose that set off his hazel brown eyes. His skin was still slightly grey from his desiccated state and his designer suit was wrinkled from lying still in a coffin from months on end.

"Yes, that's what they call me." Elijah admitted with a small modest smile as he looked her right in the eye so that she knew he wasn't going to patronise her and straightened his suit jackets cufflink without taking his eyes off her. He slowly walked to the side of the room as he maintained eye contact and dragged a chair into the middle of the room before gracefully sitting down. "And yet, I followed my brother here to New Orleans to engage in a war. So, I ask you: does that sound honourable to you?"

"You don't look well." The young witch told him matter-of-factly as she smirked at him knowingly with a mischievous glint in her bluish eyes and Elijah was instantly reminded of the scratching dehydrated sensation in his throat from lack of blood over the last few months.

"Well, only this morning I had a mystical dagger embedded in my chest, so I'd say I'm holding myself together quite well." He quipped with a slight smile on his lips as he tilted his head to the side and she nodded in agreement with a small smile as the Original leaned forward in his seat. "Davina, I believe that you and I have the power to end a war between witches and vampires before it truly begins. I, by keeping my brother in line; you, by behaving like your true self-not some tool for Marcel or the witches."

"And why should I trust you?" she asked him pointedly as she quirked an eyebrow at him in question and he tilted his to one side in consideration as he glanced around the room quickly before refocusing on her.

"Well, for one thing, in spite of a ravenous hunger, I have not tried to take your blood."

"Why not? I'm the only one here."

"Even in my present condition, I would not feed from a child." Elijah told her resolutely with a steely glint in his brown eyes as he straightened the lapel of his rumbled suit jacket and Davina narrowed her eyes at him in deliberation as she pursed her lips together in a tight line.

The young witch slowly strolled over to the desk at the side of the room without taking her bluish eyes off of the Original in the middle of the room and reached out to pick up a hat pin from the table top with one hand. She noticed that Elijah was watching her every move carefully as she walked back over to stand in front of him and carefully pricked her finger with the pin so that a tiny drop of blood collected on the end.

The veins surrounding his eyes darkened with bloodlust as they became more prominent and he swallowed harshly against his basic instincts as he glanced down at the blood. Elijah stared at the scarlet reed liquid greedily as he struggled to keep his bloodlust from completely overtaking him and his veins were rubbed together like sandpaper as the scent of fresh blood overwhelmed his superior vampire senses.

A single drop of blood clung to the end of the metal needle as Davina carefully lowered it down to the vampire's lip and Elijah looked up into her bluish eyes as the blood landed on his tongue. The taste of the blood was euphoric as it spread throughout his entire body and he blinked once in surprise as his complexion returned back to his normal skin tone.

"AB negative. My sister says it's the rarest blood type in the world." Davina informed him proudly with a small smile as her eyes lit up at the mention of her sister and Elijah returned her smile of understanding as she turned on her heel to head over to her easel at the side of the attic.

The Original stood up from his seat in the middle of the room as the young witch picked up a piece of charcoal and began sketching as he strolled over to the window before brushing aside the curtain to glance at the busy French Quarter street below.

Davina tried to ignore his presence for the moment as she neatly drew an outline of the vampire on the sketch paper in front of her and Elijah smiled at street below longingly before he let the curtain fall back into place as he glanced at the desk next to the window.

"Do you play?" he asked her curiously as he gently picked up a broken violin from the desk and began walking back over to the seat in the middle of the attic.

"That's... not mine." The young witch answered hesitantly as she looked over at him to see what he was talking about and sadness leaked into her voice as she stared at Tim's violin in his nimble hands. Elijah sat back down on the wooden chair as he hummed in acknowledgement to her comment and began tinkering with the wires of the violin carefully.

Loud footsteps echoed from outside the attic door and Elijah's head shot up in surprise as he froze in his movements before glancing over at Davina to see her looking at the door in shock.

Marcel entered the attic bedroom with a wide grin on his handsome face as his dark brown gaze instantly landed on the petite brunette standing near her easel and she smiled at him brightly as he approached her.

"Good news, Little D. I'm moving you out this pile of dust." The dark skinned vampire informed her as he stopped next to her and she spun her head around to look at him with wide bluish eyes as she hand froze.

"Are you serious? When?" she asked him excitedly as she bounced her feet a little with a wide grin and she turned her whole body to face him as she tilted her head to the side curiously.

"Tonight. I just need to lock in the arrangements. How's our Original?" he asked her as he walked a few steps closer to the coffin that Elijah's body was stored in and Davina felt her eyes widen with panic as she stepped forward because she didn't want Marcel to know that the Original wasn't in there.

"Uh, don't disturb the body! I have a spell in progress." She lied to him with an easy fake smile on her pretty lips and she buried the swell of guilt she felt at lying to him as she told herself it was for a good cause.

"Bet you do. Pack up, 'kay? Only what you wanna take. I'll buy ya anything else you need." Marcel told her warmly as he walked back over to stand in front of her with a smile and Davina nodded rapidly as she giggled enthusiastically until a thought occurred to her. She stopped bouncing on her feet as she frowned slightly at him and he gave her a questioning look as she bit her lower lip nervously.

"Um, I just got Imogen back. Am I still going to be able to see her?"

"You know Imogen. Girl won't go away without a fight." He reminded her teasingly as he smiled fondly at the mere mention of the older brunette witch and Davina's contagious smile returned as she nodded her head again at him. Marcel grinned at her brightly with such love in his dark brown eyes that Davina felt another wave of guilt at lying to him but she needed to know more and she was sure that Imogen would have agreed with her.

A few moments after Marcel had exited the attic door Elijah appeared from behind the closet in the corner of the room and looked at the young witch curiously as he walked back over to the chair in the middle of the attic.

"You didn't reveal that I was awake." Elijah stated the obvious as he tilted his head to the side inquisitively and Davina lifted her chin up a little in defiance as she placed a piece of charcoal down on the side of the easel.

"We're not done talking yet." The witch said nonchalantly as she walked over to the small alcove below the window and sat down gracefully as she looked at him with a carefully constructed expressionless mask.

"You and Marcel seem very close." He commented as he gently picked the broken violin up from the desk where he had placed it and then sat down on the seat in the middle of the attic as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"Marcel's my family." She told him adamantly as she twisted her head around to look out the small crack in the curtain where the small sliver of sunlight was coming into the room and she sighed softly as she placed her fingers in the warm light.

"And yet Marcel is someone who delights in harming the witches. Those people, I would think, you would consider family. This doesn't trouble you?" he asked her softly in concern as he frowned at her with genuine confusion in his melodic voice and Davina turned her head to look at him as she narrowed her bluish eyes dangerously.

"No. They deserve it."

"Why would you say that?"

"'Cause they're liars. All of them." Davina hissed angrily as she clenched her hands into fists at her side and Elijah frowned at her in confusion as he tilted his head to the side curiously. "Growing up my parents were always strict was me and my older sister, Imogen. It was worse for her because she always tried to keep their attention away from me and she was always the rebellious one. When Imogen turned 21, she and her best friend went on a road trip to experience life away from the coven."

Imogen Claire couldn't help but laugh out loud in delight as she watched her best friend Sophie Deveraux climb onto a bar stool drunkenly in her high heels with an empty bottle of tequila in her hands and clapped her hands together as quickly pushed her way through the crowded bar to stand next to the bar counter where Sophie was standing.

"This is how we party in Rio!" Sophie shouted loudly over the music as she lifted the hand holding the bottle of tequila into the air and everyone in the bar cheered wildly as she started drinking straight form the bottle.

"Woo! Drink up everybody!" Imogen cried out as she held out her hand to help the other brunette off of the bar counter and Sophie laughing loudly as she shook her head as though to say that she wasn't coming down. "Come on, I want to dance."

Sophie giggled uncontrollably as she sat down on the edge of the bar counter and swung her legs happily as she held the alcohol above her friend's head with a grin on her lips. Imogen laughed cheerfully as she opened her mouth wide while tilting her head back and Sophie snickered giddily as she poured the liquid into the other brunette's awaiting mouth. As Imogen swallowed the burning tequila in one gulp, Sophie leaned down to press her lips against hers and roughly cupped her cheek in her hand as she wound her hand in her friend's long brunette hair.

Imogen gasped slightly in surprise as Sophie's lips melded against hers but she quickly responded to the kiss as she was pulled closer to the counter by her hair and she swiped her tongue across her best friend's soft lips as she silently asked for entrance. The other girl opened her mouth sightly to allow their tongues to meld together in a fight for dominance as Imogen placed her hand on Sophie's upper thigh where it sat on the bar counter and Sophie moaned when she dug her nails gently into her skin.

The crowd around them cheered loudly as they pulled away from each other with matching grins and started giggling hysterically as they looked around at the leering audience surrounding them. Imogen snatched the bottle of tequila out of her friend's hand with a wink in her direction and Sophie laughed at her as she flounced into the middle of the dance floor with men trailing after her with love-struck expressions.

"While she was away and couldn't do anything to stop them, my mother enrolled me in the Harvest. They made me and my friends do this Harvest ritual. They said our participation would bring our family strength, health... that we'd forever be celebrated as saviours of the community. But all they really wanted was more power. So, I left before they could get it." Davina explained to him with a hard glint in her bluish eyes as pressed her lips in a tight line and took a deep breath to calm her scattered nerves before narrowing her eyes at him. "Now, they're running out of time, because after the Harvest, comes the Reaping. And if they don't complete the Harvest, there won't be a Reaping. Soon, all the witches in the Quarter will start to lose their power. Eventually, they will cease to be witches altogether."

"So what does it take to complete this ritual?"

"I have to die."

Elijah couldn't help the shocked expression from crossing his face as he stared at her in horror because the story the young witch was telling him wasn't anything like the one he had been led to believe and he was stunned by the revelation she had inadvertently dropped on him. He cleared his thought slightly as he looked down at the violin in his hands so that he didn't have to look into the innocent bluish eyes of Davina and he heard her stand up from her seat as he fiddled with the strings of the instrument.

"So, enlighten me. What did you mean when you said you had to die?" he asked her in a soft voice as he looked up at her and she glanced over her shoulder at him with a slight smile as she got her suitcase from the closet near the side of the room.

"That was what the Harvest was. They said they'd put us four girls in a state of, like, peaceful limbo as part of the offering. And then later, at the Reaping, we'd awaken and be reborn. I never got as far as the limbo part, which means the Harvest isn't complete. That's why the witches are so freaked out. The Reaping is just around the corner, and if they don't finish it before then, it's over. All I have to do is wait it out." Davina informed him as she walked over to the bed with the suitcase in her hands and placed it down on the top of the bed as she unzipped the lid easily.

"And then what?" he asked her politely as she moved over to the closet to grab a handful of shirts on coat hangers and stopped in the middle of the room to quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smirk on her lips.

"They're punished, and I'm free." She said to him with a malicious glint in her eyes that made him internally cringe at how much it reminded him of his late younger brother Kol and he nodded once as she walked her back over to her suitcase.

"From Marcel?"

"Of magic. All our power will drain away. I'll be normal." The witch admitted in a small voice as though she was speaking to herself rather than him and she looked over at him with a small smile as tears started to build in her bluish eyes.

"Is that what you want? To be normal?" Elijah asked her sympathetically as he tilted his head to the side in pity and he could see her blinking back tears as she turned away from him so that he didn't see her apparent weakness.

"I just don't wanna be what I am. I can't control it sometimes. Magic. I... hurt people. Even when I don't mean to." She confessed to him as she felt hot tears fill her eyes and she cleared her throat as she zipped up her suitcase with her shaky hand now that it was full of the clothes she wanted to take with her to her new location.

Elijah looked at the young girl in front of him as he tilted his head back and for the first time since he woke up in the old attic he took a real look at the teenage girl beneath the powerful witch surface because he could see her about to break under all the pressure that had been cast upon her. Something inside him was telling him that he needed to take her mind off

"Why don't you tell me about your friends. You must miss them."

"There's Tim. He doesn't know about any of this witch stuff. He's normal." Davina told him with a wistful smile on her lips as she sunk down onto the edge of the bed next to her suitcase and she risked a quick glance at the violin in his hand before looking back into his intense brown eyes. thinking about the one person in the world that she cared about losing during the Harvest made her eyes water as she swallowed roughly and cleared her throat delicately as she lifted her head boldly. "My best friend, Monique. She was a part of the Harvest too. She's lucky. We're the only ones who had someone to speak out for them. The only people who ever spoke out against the Harvest were my sister and Monique's aunt."

"And who is that?" Elijah asked her as his forehead furrowed in confusion and leaned forward in the seat as he listened intently to her answer in case there was a chance at making a new ally out of one of the witches.

"Sophie Deveraux." The young witch admitted with a sigh as she glanced down at the ground in hilt because she knew that it was because of her that Imogen was no longer speaking to her best friend and she knew that it was hurting her sister even if she didn't admit it to anyone. "No one but Sophie and Imogen ever questioned the Harvest. Not even my own mother. So neither did I. We thought it was such an honour, we had such faith. We were so stupid."

"So how did it begin?" he asked as he pushed aside the shock of finding out the truth about Sophie because she had been the one to track him down and link herself to Hayley in an effort to control him and his family for their own benefit.

"We were led out like princesses. My mother was so proud. Bastiana, one of the Elders, called upon the four elements to bind our past and future magic together. Earth, to connect us to our ancestors. Water, to heal the community. Wind, to carry us to our ancestors and back. Fire, to purify. After all our preparation, we knew exactly what to expect. For weeks they told us that the magic in the knife they used to cut our palms would put us to sleep, and that later at the Reaping, we would all be resurrected. They said we'd awaken, and all be together and more powerful than ever. And it was just like we rehearsed it. All that was left was a little cut on our palms for the blood sacrifice. Even after Sophie and Imogen tried to stop it, we didn't suspect anything."

The stars were shining bright overhead as four beautiful teenage girls wearing long white flowing white dresses were lead into Lafayette Cemetery by the New Orleans witch coven elders and they approached the group of other coven members that were standing in a loose semi-circle around four birdbaths with a clear liquid.

The four girls stood proudly in front of their coven as an aging witch with red hair made her way up to the centre of the semi-circle and the air surrounding the assembled mass of witches crackled with energy as she used magic to light the clear liquid on flames.

"Our magic fades as our ties to our ancestors weaken over time. We beseech them, accept this offering as a sign of our faith." The aging witch pronounced in a steady voice as her gaze swept over the people in front of her and she inclined her head upwards as everyone stared at her in reverence.