February 2026

In seven years, Beatrix had never felt so different.

It was a strange thing, to not see the Mikaelsons for so long. Sure, they had FaceTime, and she regularly communicated with Rebekah and Kol, who were having the time of their lives with Marcel and Davina, respectfully. However, Beatrix had not seen Klaus and Elijah's faces or even heard their voices since that fateful day.

She had forced herself not to think of them, because it meant missing them.

When they had taken Hope to the Salvatore School, she had fit in right away. Beatrix had been put at ease, seeing how much she liked it there. Alaric had even offered her a job to teach there, since she knew quite a bit about magic. Beatrix declined. She couldn't picture herself as a teacher.

Instead, she had become a doctor in the Mystic Falls and Whitmore hospitals. She moved between them, treating special pregnancy cases that required her expertise. She and Hayley had lived in an apartment for the first two years that Hope had been at the Salvatore School, and it had gone well.

Beatrix had forgiven Bonnie Bennett at long last, for trapping her in the 1903 prison world. She had learned to respect Damon despite how often he made jokes. He was more tolerable now, though he carried a consistent air of sadness. Stefan had sacrificed himself, years ago, to save him. Damon was now human, and Beatrix had taken the time to help his girlfriend Elena study for her MCAT and get into medical school.

But in her second year at the Salvatore School, Hope had done a complicated spell. She astral projected herself in order to see Klaus, who contacted her (and sometimes Hayley) often. Hope had seen a brutal scene in Russia that had terrified her. Klaus, bloodthirsty and violent. He had not spoken to her since then, despite extensive pleas from Hayley and Beatrix to speak with his daughter. For the first time in two years, Beatrix heard his voice, only to have him tell her that he would not speak to Hope.

The two women had returned to New Orleans at the start of Hope's third year. They fixed up The Abattoir and moved back in. They rekindled with Vincent, Josh, and Freya, who was very happy with Keelin. Beatrix began to work as a doctor in two of the nearby hospitals.

And she was happy. She felt a freedom that she had never imagined. She did not date anyone. Flirt with anyone. Even look at anyone attractive for longer than a second. She had never thought of how good it felt to be independent. She loved it. She could focus entirely on being there for Hope, when she visited, and just relaxing after all that'd happened to them in the past.

Hayley had been the first to cave into their shared impulses. She had gone on a vacation alone. She returned looking beyond happy.

Beatrix learned that she had gone to see Elijah. Though he had not recognized him, his charm remained intact. He knew his name, but he didn't know his past. It didn't seem to bother him. He had a girlfriend, but Hayley hadn't learned her name. All she had wanted was to see him again.

Beatrix had thought long ago that perhaps, she could leave behind her magic and go to see Klaus. For closure. Yet, she had decided against it. She had gone to a therapist instead. Spoken to the human girl about her problems, compelling her to ignore any supernatural facts that might confuse her. She had healed in the correct way. She knew that she didn't need anyone to be happy. She had never been healthier. She only did small spells to revive dead plants and clean. The darkness hadn't returned to consume her.

But with Elijah, it was another matter altogether.

She couldn't imagine how he had thought that compelling away every memory had been a solution. Had it even brought him the relief he had wanted? He wouldn't have known either way. He couldn't recall who he'd been in his past life.

And so she had caved, too. Leaving her magic in the old piano key, tucking it in her pillowcase and casting a protective spell over it, she left to Manosque, France.

She hadn't planned on talking to him. She just wanted to pass by him. To see for herself that he was alright, and that this life was bringing him the joys he had wanted.

She had been walking down the street, looking down at her phone to try and figure out where he would be. She had stopped, seeing a flash of white, and had glanced up, revealing a closed bridal shop with some gorgeous dresses on display.

"Come on, we're already late."

She held her hand out to him, pulling him out of the entrance and down the crowded streets. "I have yet to find the perfect dress, and we're running out of time. At this rate, we'll reach the party when they're already served dessert."

He had laughed. "If you weren't so occupied with debating whether you wanted to go or not in the first place, perhaps we would have gotten a chance to see the dresses much earlier, my darling."

Beatrix cast Elijah a smirk. It was December of 1899, and they had been invited to a New Year's Eve celebration. The Heretic had not wanted to go, initially, but had then changed her mind, though she was lacking a proper dress to wear.

She came to a halt in front of a shop that had a beautiful wedding gown on display. She looked up, and her eyes sparkled. Elijah could see that it captivated her. In that moment, everything made sense to Beatrix. She and Elijah had already been together for over ten years. She could picture herself in the future— happy. Married to Elijah.

He had not thought of proposing. Not even when they hit the twenty year mark had he thought of it— she had been trapped in the Compound and it had felt wrong. Then, in 1914, they had been torn apart, and he realized he had missed his chance.

Beatrix felt herself smiling at the memory. She looked back down at her phone and began to walk, only to bump into a man that'd been walking in front of her.

Him.

She looked up, and blushed, taking a step to the side. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I'm afraid I let myself be distracted."

"A British accent, I hear," he observed. "Visiting from England?"

"Oh, no— I'm from the States. I just have a lot of British family and friends, and the accent sort of stuck."

He quirked a brow, and didn't respond for a few seconds. "Intriguing." He paused, and looked over her face. "I'm sorry— you look so familiar. I could have sworn I've seen you before, somewhere. Is this your first time in France?"

"No, I've been here before, just a long time ago," said Beatrix. The last time she had been in the country was in 1715, when she met Renée La Salle.

"Ah... I only arrived recently. About four years ago, I believe." He held his hand out to her, smiling. "My name is Elijah. Yours?"

She smiled. "I've been known by many names in the past. I'm... Ianira."

"Ianira," he said, the name rolling off of his tongue with ease. "I have heard that name before... yet, I think I am correct in assuming that it is quite rare, therefore the possibility of that..."

Quite rare indeed. Beatrix had not yet met someone who had the same name as her mother. Or anyone named Itza, for that matter. Beatrix was a more common name, as was Soleil.

"It was my mother's name," she said truthfully, shaking his hand. It filled her with warmth to feel his touch again, and she didn't immediately let go. "Aside from her... I don't know anyone else called that."

"I am trying to place where I've encountered you before," he said, not pulling away from her grip. It was gentle, and he could have withdrawn his hand if he wanted to. "Is... is your surname French?"

"Yes," she said, bewildered. "Um, my father was French."

He still wouldn't let go of her hand. He was searching every last visible feature as if hoping it would stir a memory. "I apologize, I must be making you feel uncomfortable."

He let go.

She shook her head. "Not at all..." she looked down, and cleared her throat. "The hands of a musician, I presume? Delicate, but firm. Slender fingers. At least, those are traits of musicians I know."

"You play music?" he inquired, looking intrigued. "Perhaps we've met at a concert."

"Oh, no. I'm not very good at it. I only ever learned a few little tunes on the piano. I haven't been to a concert in quite a long time."

"You are still young. You have every opportunity to learn. Have you had a teacher?"

She gazed at him fondly. "Yes, I did. He was quite patient with me, despite how I never improved. He used to... tease me that a newborn could learn quicker than me."

Elijah chuckled. "It is never too late to hone in on a skill. What about writing? You look like you could be a writer."

"I did write a few things. Short little drabbles, mostly about Shakespeare."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I... I have a feeling that... your favorite play is Othello. But you know Hamlet the best. Perhaps from being asked to read it in school."

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and she was certain he could hear it. "You're correct," she said softly. She gulped and tried to change the subject. "I also er— wrote a poem once. One good one. I made it back when... I was madly in love with someone."

He seemed curious. "Oh? And what was the poem about?"

"I wrote it right when I started to befriend the person properly. It was just... something that came to mind about darkness and light. The good and the bad. I honestly don't know what happened with it, I never searched if it was published or not. I left it to my... my old partner to publish, if he wished. I'm not sure if he did. I forgot to ever ask him."

"I bet I have heard of it," he said, seeming to like the challenge. "I have read a great deal many books of poetry and fiction. Nonfiction as well, of course."

She smirked. "You really think you might know it? I never gave it a title, so if it was published, it would have been under some bizarre name."

They were standing so close, Beatrix could hear his heartbeat. She did not dare get closer. She had less strength without her magic, and that meant less self-control. She couldn't afford to succumb to a temptation that wouldn't bring them any good.

He was the one who leaned over. "I bet that I know exactly which one it is, without you needing to tell me. I have a feeling. How many lines was it?"

"Eight," she said, shifting back ever so slightly.

He looked into her eyes, and her breath hitched. He leaned in, and she closed her eyes, thinking he was going to kiss her, but instead, he whispered in her ear.

It brought tears to her eyes. He recited the poem word for word, as she had written it for him back in 1887. She didn't know how he could possibly remember. He was the only person she ever told about it. The only one who read those words and knew they were hers. If the poem had indeed been published, it was likely under another name, which was what she had wanted, if he had ever chosen to publish it in her honor.

When he pulled back and saw she was crying, he reached up and dried her tears with his sleeve. "I don't know how I knew," he whispered, putting his other hand under her chin. "I think... I did know you, in a past life. Maybe when we were both reborn and just... have this profound connection that can transcend lifetimes."

"You are with someone," she said softly, gently pushing his hands down. "A man like you could not possibly be single. However much we may connect, I do not wish to influence you to do something that would hurt the feelings of the woman you are seeing."

He understood. He had always been the one that understood her. "And are you?" he said. "With anyone?"

She shook her head. "No... I haven't been, for four years."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it, before letting go. "Any man or woman would be beyond fortunate to hold your affections."

She swallowed hard and stepped back. "Goodbye, Elijah," she said, trying to force a genuine smile, though tears still rolled steadily down her face. "It... was good to meet you."

She sped away and did not await his reply.

It was impossible. How could he possibly remember things in such detail? Hayley had said that he had seemed to recognize her, but had accepted that he didn't know her until that day that he saw her. Meanwhile, he had consistently brought up facts that he couldn't have recalled if his memories were gone.

She had not visited again.

The years had passed and she had enjoyed her life. She had worked, treating patients as often as she could.

In her spare time, she helped Josh train vampires to fight and learn self-control. They'd come up with an agreement— Beatrix would make daylight rings for vampires who proved to be worthy of them, if they asked for it. Once they demonstrated sufficient control over their abilities and blood lust, Beatrix would go into their minds just to see if she found anything that would put them in jeopardy.

Vincent and Freya had managed to help her gain respect from the witches in the New Orleans community. They did not fully like her, but she aided them with writing useful spells for reference, and she offered her hand whenever they were dealing with something particularly important.

Together, she, Hayley, Vincent, Freya, and Josh helped to run New Orleans. They kept it at its former glory. Hayley even got a boyfriend, once she started to really love life again.

Their only problem was that they knew Klaus was not following through with the past agreement.

Rebekah and Kol often reported of flowers wilting in their homes, or blood appearing in random places. They knew that Klaus was going to see Elijah, but when they tried to contact the Original hybrid, he ignored them.

They hadn't many problems. Things felt good, for once. Hope was growing and becoming a kind young lady. Beatrix and Freya taught her spells in moderation when she visited. She had yet to trigger her werewolf side, but she had honed in very well to being a witch, and was excelling far above what they could have imagined.

And then the Salvatore School had called.

"She did what?" gasped Beatrix.

"Fed her blood to one of her classmates," said Hayley angrily as she shoved things into her purse. "The kid killed himself and he's a hybrid now! I have to go and pick her up. This is ridiculous, I can't even believe what they're telling me. Can you try to contact Klaus while I'm away?"

"Sure," said Beatrix. "Let's hope he hasn't cloaked himself like last time."

Beatrix had tried her own astral projections, and it seemed that oftentimes, whenever he was doing something particularly bad, he would get a witch to cloak him so that neither Freya nor Beatrix could reach him.

"That slimy git," she muttered to herself after the first ten times she called him. She prepared her materials for an astral projection and had no such luck.

It had taken nine hours for Hope and Hayley to return.

"Can you just yell at me already?" Beatrix heard Hope say as they entered the Compound. "Seven hours of hostile silence is punishment enough."

Hayley turned to face her daughter as Beatrix came down the stairs. "The whole point of sending you to that school and calling you Hope Marshall was so that you wouldn't draw attention to yourself, to keep you safe. Why? Why did you do it? What could you have possibly needed the money for?"

Hope made a face of defiance. "That's my business."

"And selling your blood is mine," said Hayley sharply. "You had no right."

"You're being a hypocrite! You're the one that taught me, 'my body, my choice.' Well, my blood, my choice."

"You are not just anybody, Hope! Do you even understand what you have done?"

"Henry came to me."

"And you should have said no, Hope. Henry was already a kid who was struggling to fit in, and now... he's gonna be only one of three hybrids in the world, and seen as a threat to everyone in the city. You have no idea what you've done. You cannot create something without taking responsibility for it."

Hope glared at her mother. "What are you gonna do? Ground me... a-and lock me up? I'll just whammy myself out, I am a witch."

"And I am your mother," said Hayley. "Which means tomorrow I'm gonna have to clean up the mess you've made before it gets worse."

She walked up the stairs, casting Beatrix a look of exasperation. The Heretic sighed and came down. Hope turned away and walked toward the fountain, sitting at the edge of it. Beatrix followed and sat beside her.

"She hates me," muttered Hope.

"In this world," said Beatrix, crossing her legs, "it is really important to help other people. And you are right, it's your choice. Your mom doesn't hate you. She thinks that you acted too rashly. There is nothing wrong with wanting to help someone when they approach you. Especially knowing that you can do something. But there's a difference between helping someone emotionally, and aiding them in fitting in, and creating a hybrid. I know that right now, it seems like it's nothing bad. But this supernatural world is so volatile. It's dangerous to exist the way we do. And becoming a hybrid is one of the most dangerous things. It brings so much judgement. You get a target put on your back. Hybrids of that nature, especially, vampire and wolf, are so much more dangerous."

"You can be dangerous too," Hope murmured. "Witch vampire. If I could make money off of creating those, I totally would."

"The point, my sweet girl, is that you need to think really carefully about the choices you make, being who you are. Sometimes, the things we do have effects immediately. Sometimes, things don't go wrong until further in the future. You have to constantly question what might happen, because you can get yourself hurt, and you certainly don't want to help other people get hurt. I know you're not the only one at fault. That kid really shouldn't have asked you for this and he shouldn't have gone through with it. But it's essential that you realize that this wasn't a good choice. This is your chance to learn from it. There is so much you have yet to learn and meddling with this is not a proper route to take."

Hope sighed, and Beatrix put her arm around her. "I want to remind you that you can always be honest with me. You don't have to tell me, I know it's your choice, and I won't look into your mind. What was the money for?"

The girl shook her head. "You're going to think it's stupid..."

Beatrix pursed her lips. "You wanted to get to your dad," she deduced.

"You said you wouldn't look into my mind!"

"I didn't. I've seen how much of a toll it's taken on you that he's been ignoring you. It's not okay, and I wish I could get him to be a proper father even if he can't be here."

Hope looked away. "Why does he always think that pulling away is the right way to go about these things?" she said. "He— he did it to you. He dumped you because he wanted to protect you from himself. He did the same thing to me." She reached her hand into the water of the fountain and let her fingers make gentle waves. "If he came back... would you fall in love with him again? I-I remember when I was little, I liked to see how much you and my mom used to smile when my dad and Uncle Elijah were around. If he returned... and you two got back together... he'd listen to you. Mom told me that you were the one that could always keep Klaus in check."

Beatrix kissed her forehead. "I don't know, mi esperanza. But what I do know is that I will keep fighting to make him a good dad. You deserve that. He'll be a blast when you start dating..."

Hope laughed lightly, and Beatrix rubbed her back. "Talk to your mama. Tell her the truth. She doesn't hate you, Hope. She's going to understand. And while you're at it, you should give your Uncle Kol a call in the morning. It'll cheer you up."

"Thanks, Aunt Trix," said Hope, standing up. "I'm going to go to sleep now. I'm tired after that trip."

"Sleep well, mi pequeña," said Beatrix, smiling as she watched her niece go up to her room.

She thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be better the next day. As their ruddy luck would have it, they were not.

Henry, from what Beatrix recalled, was a werewolf that'd been raised by a Crescent named Lisina. The kid was young, and he wasn't too in-control. This proved to bring a problem to light when he arrived at the Compound with the dead body of Poppy, one of the vampires who worked at Rousseau's.

Immediately, the gang of vampires that Beatrix didn't like, came to the scene, along with Josh, since he was the one in charge.

These were vampires who had gotten their daylight rings from other witches. Beatrix suspected that they were afraid of what she would see in their minds, and therefore had not asked her for anything.

"No one wants any trouble, Hayley," said their leader, Greta (Beatrix particularly hated this one. She was rather obnoxious and radical) when the vampires came to collect Henry to punish him. "We just want the hybrid."

"You're not getting Henry!" snapped Lisina defensively.

"Remember that that hybrid is just a kid," said Josh to the group. He turned back to Hayley. "But Poppy was just trying to walk home from work, and she was our friend."

"He's not going anywhere," growled Lisina.

Josh looked pointedly at Hayley. "You might not have a choice."

"We need to be rational," said Hayley in exasperation.

"Should they go back and tell Poppy's mother that her daughter's killer is free, but at least we were rational?" snapped Greta.

Hayley rubbed her forehead. "Peace is complicated. We haven't had it all this time because we've been perfect. We've had it because we haven't overreacted when we're not. Revenge isn't justice. Do we really want to sacrifice a... a kid to assuage our fear?"

"He's not just a kid," said Greta. "He's a hybrid. With the power to kill any vampire he chooses."

"I'm a hybrid," said Hayley. "I'm not a threat to anyone. Beatrix is a hybrid, and she's done nothing but help the vampire and witch communities in these past seven years. And after we team up to teach Henry self-control, he won't be a threat to anyone, either. Look, every death is a tragedy. And I'm truly sorry for Poppy and her family. But we've evolved beyond an 'eye for an eye' mentality. This is a test. Don't... throw away all we've accomplished."

The vampires were unsatisfied, but they elected to leave. As they were walking out, Beatrix heard Greta say under her breath, "The wolf-vampire hybrids are the worst of the lot, they think they can just lord it over..."

Hayley hadn't heard, as she had already started talking to Lisina. Beatrix was tempted to go after Greta, but by the time she decided to do it, Hayley grabbed her shoulder.

"Walk with me, please," she sighed in exasperation. "I need the company."

They went out into the town. "I don't know what the hell to do," said Hayley. "I just— I want to be fair but I know how they're feeling and I also know how the wolves are feeling. I still can't believe what Hope was thinking."

"Did she talk to you yet?" asked Beatrix.

"About wanting to see Klaus? Yes. I wish I knew what to tell her. I wish... I wish that he wasn't like this, but he is."

"One day, I want to just sit him down and do a damn mind-calming spell. I've gotten good at those with my patients, and I can easily make them Original caliber. His daughter needs him and—"

The two women stopped, seeing ahead of them on the street, were Henry and Hope.

"What the—?"

Both of their necks snapped, and the woman collapsed on the floor. The two teenagers ran forward to retrieve them.