The attack came at night.

Klaus and I were sleeping, holding each other in a tight embrace, when I felt it. At first, it was a chill. Didn't think much of it, if I'm being honest, but it only escalated from there. The chill grew and festered into a feeling that I could only describe as one word: darkness.

I've felt and seen and have heard of pain in my lifetime(s). I have seen atrocities of the many. I have been killed and brought back, had my body taken over by the spirit of my past life, and have had countless encounters with grief along the way, but all of that turmoil paled in comparison to what I was feeling at the moment.

I have never wished for death. I tried it once, and needless to say, I wasn't a fan. But the feeling of just... endless black and sorrow and dread and fear was enough to make me want to shake hands with the face of it with a glad heart and a bright smile. But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move, or scream, or cry, or even wake up the love of my lives to help me get through it. All I could do is stare blankly at his sleeping figure, and try with all of my might to get out of the state of paralysis that I was currently trapped in. The amount of time that passed wasn't clear, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that sometime during that inordinate amount of time, she decided to pay me a visit.

They're coming.

They're coming.

Wake up.

They're coming.

Wake up!

And with that final exclamation on her part, I rose with a scream.

My scream shook the walls and blew out all the windows, and, of course, woke up Klaus in the process.

"Ophelia!" He cried out, rushing to my aid despite the pain he felt from my cries as well. "Ophelia, what's wrong?!"

I couldn't say anything. All I could do was claw at my skin and shake, trying anything to rid myself of the feelings of death washing over me like a tsunami. Noticing this, Klaus quickly grabbed my wrists and held them tightly, forcing me to stop the incessant scratching.

"Ophelia," He repeated, looking into my very soul. "Ophelia, what's wrong?!"

Me being in the state I was currently, however, could only get out two words:

"They're here."

I watched as Klaus' face paled due to his understanding of the situation, but he was quick to recover. Or, rather, conceal.

"How much time do we have?" He asked urgently, getting up and pulling on his clothing.

"I-I don't know," I confessed, still visibly trembling. "But they're here, Nik. I can feel it. It's everywhere. They're everywhere."

Klaus' face hardened, the Klaus that everyone knew and loathed coming out to play. Sometimes I think that he, too, had a different version of himself from a past life inside of him like I did. How he could just go from the most tender, loving, caring, gentle man I have ever met to some killing, dangerous, war machine of a beast. It was borderline unnatural — but then again, everything about him is.

"They want to fight?" He asked, tone dark, breathing growing heavy. "They'll get a war."

To say I wasn't turned on would be a lie. But, seeing how there was a good chance that I would meet my maker sometime in the near future, and how there would definitely be more than one or two deaths, it was not the time, nor place for that.

We'd celebrate when all was over, and the war was won.

"Come on," He spoke, taking my still trembling hand in his death grip and pulling me up off of the bed. "They've probably got your apartment surrounded, and even if they don't, they will soon. I'll get Elijah and Kol but we've got to get out of here before they surround here, too. While I'm gone, I'm going to need you to get in touch with Davina as well. She's our secret weapon in this war. Marcel never knew that you two were as close as you are, and Davina is as loyal as they come. No doubt she'll come to our aid."

"And if she doesn't?" I ask, looking up into his pretty blue eyes.

"Then she's dies with the rest of them."

I gulped and nodded, wasting no time in conjuring up a piece of paper and a pen, writing the message to Davina with much haste.

Davina,

I'm writing this to inform you that the time has come where Marcel has finally launched his attack. There's an army of witches that are out to watch me burn, and if I have ever meant anything to you — anything at all — I beg of you to come to my aid and join the Mikaelson family and I in this battle. I'm aware that you have always been raised to fear them and hate them, but they're my family, now, Davina. And believe it or not, I consider you my family, too.

I understand if you do not wish to join us, as there is more than just a little bit of risk involved in all of this, but just... I don't even know. I'm trying to be brave, D, but it isn't working. I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared. I don't know what to do, and I'm fighting for my life against what seems like is the entire world. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

In case you choose not to help, or if you see it as too much danger, or even don't want to go against the man that saved you, just know that I understand. I understand, and I'm not angry. But just know this: I love you, Davina. Thank you for being such a good friend to me during times of which I had no one.

Yours truly,

Ophelia Armstrong.

Crumpling up the letter between my hands into a little ball, I focused my energy and sent it into her own hands, whisking it away. Sighing, I turned around, and was met with my three favourite boys: Klaus, Kol, and Elijah.

"You ready to wage some war, boys?" I asked with a large, fake smile, hiding my fear well.

"Is the sky blue?" Kol grinned, obviously a little too excited for the events that would soon ensue. "We're going to paint the town red, Ophelia. Teach these pesky witches that it's past time they start respecting the queen."

"Kol, now is not the time." Elijah scolded, standing there with his head held high.

"I'm going to have to agree with Kol on this one, brother," Klaus spoke, fire in his eyes. "Had they just accepted Ophelia as what she is, all of this could have easily been avoided!"

"But they didn't." I piped up, ending a rant before it began. "They didn't want me. They still don't want me. I'm more of a nuisance than a queen to them and they're fighting back. They think they're revolutionaries fighting the oppressive power, not some kid who was bestowed with some title who really does not give a shit about anything at this point."

"Either way, they've waged a war," Elijah spoke, preventing a debate from happening. "Their motives don't matter to us at this point."

"You're right," I smiled sadly. "Which is why we need a plan."

"You sound like you have one already."

"If you consider drawing all of them here so that we can attack first a plan, then yes. Consider this war mapped out."

"...Actually, that's not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes," Klaus, muttered, thinking it over. "We know this ground. This is our land. We know all of it's secrets and we know what is where. That gives us leverage over the enemy."

"No offence, but didn't Marcel live here, too...?"

"Yes, but who built it, love?" He asked, smirk on his beautiful features. "There are things in this house that not even Marcellus knows about."

"So it's been decided," Elijah spoke up, puffing out his chest and placing his hands in his pockets. Oh, how I've missed the hero pose. "We lead them here?"

"Unless anyone has any other ideas."

Silence fell throughout the room, letting us know that we'd reached an accord.

"So, how do we know when they're coming?"

All of the sudden, a loud bang sounded through the mansion, letting us know exactly how they'd let us know they were here. And immediately, a white hot pain was in my head, bringing my sorry ass to the floor.

"Ophelia!" Klaus screamed, bringing me up and putting my weight on him.

Groaning through the pain, I felt my body begin to tremble slightly when all of it was cut off suddenly. It was almost as if someone turned off the giant light switch of pain.

"Looks like you really did need me after all." A familiar, effeminate voice spoke from the corner of the room.

Without even looking up to see who it was, I smiled.

"You came."

"I'm not going to let you die, Ophelia." Davina spoke with determination. "I don't care who I have to make my ally. You're not dying today."

Smiling more, I met her green gaze and practically shot hearts at her from my eyes.

"You sure you're a witch, D?" I joked, wiping a little bit of blood from my nose. "Because right now you're more of an angel to me."

"I second that notion." Kol spoke, dazed and smiling widely. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Kol Mikaelson. And you are?"

"Davina, Davina Claire."

Kol's smile softened little bit at the mention of her name, making him appear way less menacing than usual. He looked more like a schoolboy who found his first crush. Which, from what Klaus and Elijah have told me, may be true. Kol — from what I've heard, that is — never really found love. Klaus had, well, me/other me, Elijah had had a handful of lovers, but Kol... Well, Kol was either killing people, or in a box. Not much time for romance in his little world.

Maybe something good would become of this whole shit show after all.

"Great. Now that we're all acquainted, let's focus on what's really important," Klaus spoke, cutting off their little moment. But there was something behind that look in his eyes. Something evil. Something sinister and dark. Something that I had only seen in that first dream of mine. "War."

"What about it?" Kol asked, tearing his gaze away from Davina. "We don't exactly have a mapped out strategy — no offence, Ophelia."

"None taken." I said, smiling a small smile. "I thought we all agreed on it though. Like, literally seconds ago.

"What's the strategy?" Davina asked.

"Let then come to us and use the advantage of our own territory and personal strengths to win." Elijah explained simply.

"Three originals and two of the strongest witches in the world." Kol grinned. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"What can you tell us about Marcel?" I asked, changing the subject. "Has he mentioned anything about his attack? Plans? Secret weapons? Anything at all?"

Davina furrowed her brow, obviously deep in thought at my question.

"He... I think I heard him mention a name." She said, looking into my dark brown eyes.

"What was it?" Klaus asked, tone nothing less than friendly.

Note the sarcasm, please.

"Esther."

And with that name — that one damned, cursed, hexed name — hell was suddenly unleashed upon the Mikaelson warfront.