It had become too much.

Hope had wanted to leave immediately, declaring she was starving and needed a bite. Rhysaenya was the only one brave enough to follow her. She left a note with Cleo, begging them to contact Hope's family, to find some way to locate the real Aurora, kill her, and come to their aid as soon as possible.

She couldn't let The Watcher win this way.

"It feels so nice not to care!" said Hope, three bodies in the back seat, completely drained of blood. "See, I don't care that Raf is dead. He was my ex, my friend, and I feel nothing. It's the best. You're quiet. Didn't get enough to eat?"

"I don't drink blood," said Rhysaenya, trying to remain calm. She wanted to hate Hope for doing this to her, for making the decision to turn her humanity off without caring how the rest of them would feel having to bring her back from it. She bestowed that burden on Rhysaenya personally.

And yet she couldn't blame her. It was either do that and give them a hard time getting her back or let The Watcher take over her body and probably destroy the supernatural world. Not to mention she'd had enough. Watching Sofya die was a hard pinch, watching Sebastian die was a firm smack, coming back to find the school abandoned after an attack was a good punch and kick, but having dealt the killing blow to Rafael, a good friend and an ex she didn't harbor ill will toward was a train running into her at full speed. Maybe a plane had crashed onto her, too.

She didn't fault Hope for giving up. She just wished she'd had more of a heads up. She wished Hope had told her what to do to bring her back. Rhysaenya never even knew vampires before she met their little group. How was she going to draw anyone's humanity back on?

Hope snorted, noticing how she gripped the edge of her seat, trying to calm herself. "But you did once. Don't you like it?"

"I shouldn't. So I don't. I agreed to help you sate your hunger. I'm simply not hungry."

"Why are you here?"

"You asked me to bring you back. I'm not leaving your side."

"Hmm... then we might as well make the most of it. There's a hotel coming up on the next exit. We could get a room."

Rhysaenya stared at her. "Hope, if you don't care about anything, you shouldn't care to have any kind of sexual relations with me. I don't want our first time together to be like this. How about we discuss what your plan is? Assuming you have one."

Hope laughed. "Easy. Find the last artifact, get it, find Aurora, get The Watcher's location from her, kill Aurora. I'm going to get The Watcher and I'm going to kill her once and for all."

"Great. Let's get to that."

"I need a drink first."

Rhysaenya threw up her hands as Hope pulled off of the freeway. "How does this help anyone? You just had a drink."

"From a few mouthy blood bags. I want a real drink."

The bartender knew immediately that they weren't old enough when he saw their Salvatore School ID cards. He eyed Hope suspiciously, and she simply challenged him with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a problem or something?"

"Several," said the man. "None worth wasting my breath on."

"I didn't come here to talk, either," said Hope. "I came here to drink. Grab us a bottle of tequila. I'm gonna need a chaser."

Rhysaenya didn't know what a chaser was. The bartender, compelled, brought them two shot glasses to go with their bottle of El Jimador, which Hope got to pouring right away.

"To us and the open road," said Hope, pushing the shot toward her as she beckoned a woman seated near them to join. "And to the glorious murders we're about to carry out."

She half-heartedly joined her in drinking, downing the shot and setting her glass down. Hope grabbed the arm of the human who'd come near, using her nails to cut her wrist open, draining a second shot for them made entirely of blood.

"And here's your chaser," said Hope sweetly.

"I'm not drinking this," said Rhysaenya. "If you'll recall, the last time I drank blood, I ended up in a prison world. I don't need to drink this and I don't want to, either."

"You liked the taste before. And mark my words, no one is sending you to a prison world. Least of all Alaric Saltzman." She giggled, eyes darkening with fury. "You have no idea how mad I was when I found out he lied about you being dead, Rhysaenya. I went through all those stages of grief for nothing. So if prison is what you're worried about, don't worry. We'll find Dr. Saltzman first and I'll make sure to send a message to make sure no one interferes with your life or mine... ever again."

"A... message?"

"See, before I turned, there was always a million reasons given to me why I shouldn't do it. You know, I didn't want to, but I realized I had to make sacrifices to save the world. So I did. But you know who showed the most resistance to it? It wasn't my family, no, it wasn't even my friends. It was Dr. Saltzman, the same man who invited me into the school knowing where I came from. Telling me all sorts of bullshit about how at the end of the day, I was still my father's daughter. He thought that darkness and cruelty was all I was capable of. So why don't we go prove him right? I have thought about punching him in the face for the longest time. Maybe I can do something a little worse to keep the rest of those brats away from us."

"Hope, you wanted me to bring you back. They are already involved and are going to help us take The Watcher down. There's no need to push them away. Explain this no-humanity thing to me, huh, because if you don't care about anything, why do you care to hurt them? Why do you care to be here trying to force a shot of blood down my throat?"

"I care about my own agenda, no one else's. I care about keeping myself satisfied. I've stopped giving a crap what everyone else wants me to do. I will do the things I want to do because I want to do them, not because it's what I think is expected of me."

"Great, so you do what you want... let me do what I want. Dragons don't have a humanity switch but you of all people have to believe in free will, right?"

Hope smiled darkly. "You think you can tag along while not at full strength? You need to be ready for anything. So drink this blood. It will strengthen you."

"I don't need to feed on blood, it won't give me any more nutrients than any other food. I'd rather eat a slab of raw meat."

"So do it. How big did you say your mother's dragon was by the time she was forty-two?"

"She looked like Caraxes but she was the size of Silverwing. It was like she grew every ten years. When she was thirteen and first turned into one, she was about the size of Quicksilver. About the same as Syrax and Sunfyre, according to my grandfather. At twenty-three, she was the size of Meleys. My current size. It's a slow progression, we don't exactly grow exponentially. I haven't changed at all."

"Because you don't want to. Tell me, did your mother kill in dragon form?"

"Small animals, yeah, she was curious and she was responsible for their meals sometimes."

"So she consumed blood. Small trace amounts."

"Somewhat."

"The answer is right in front of you, Rhysaenya. If you want to make your family proud and be the size of Meraxes, Vhagar, and Balerion, then you need to feed as dragons do. Do you want to settle for mediocre or do you want to be great?" She motioned to the shot. "Drink this. And then we're getting you some flesh."

"Hope, I really don't think–"

"I wasn't asking, Rhysaenya. You seem to be forgetting that just because the idiotic me with her humanity asked you to bring me back, doesn't mean you're capable of it. Hell, we all know that. Your bark is as bad as your bite, but your bite could be a whole lot worse. You see, if I wasn't so worried about you all being weak, I never would have felt the need to turn it off. I can't protect you if you don't first protect yourself. So, starting today, if you intend to stay here and help me, you're going to drink blood whenever I do and eat raw meat whenever you feel like it. Listen to your instincts, they're there for a reason."

Rhysaenya gripped the shot glass tight in her hand, shoving down an argument and just drinking. There was no sense in continuing to say no when Hope was going to insist. She refused to let Hope detach herself and continue on alone; they'd never get her back then.

"Good," said Hope. "Another."

They took five shots of blood spaced between shots of tequila. Rhysaenya was feeling dizzy, grabbing onto the edge of the bar as the room began to spin, not sure if there was a red haze or that was just her eyes playing tricks after all the blood she'd forced down her throat.

"Dance with me," urged Hope. "Come on."

Rhysaenya wasn't sure she'd be able to stand for very long, but joined her on the dance floor anyway, letting Hope hold her up as a country song began to play, neither of them enjoying it, though Hope did at least seem to like the act of dancing. Rhysaenya wasn't sure what she gained from it. If her point was to hunt, they should be hunting.

"Mind if I cut in?"

She almost sighed in relief when she heard Rebekah's voice. Someone had gotten through to the Mikaelsons.

"You're here," said Rhysaenya, staggering over to Rebekah, who held her firm.

"Are you alright?" asked Rebekah, looping her hand around her waist to pull her toward a chair. "How much did you drink?"

"Too much," moaned Rhysaenya, holding her head.

Rebekah eyed Hope, who was glaring. "I thought you might be happy to see me."

"I was happy," said Hope. "And then I saw you."

"Hey," said the woman they'd been feeding on, coming to join them. "Look, lady, I know you have a fancy accent and all, so maybe you don't get it. She doesn't seem to want you here."

Rebekah's lips curled up. "Yes, well, what I want is another song. Because you're right, I'm a very fancy bitch, and country music is for garbage people. Run along and change it, will you?"

The woman had no choice but to go.

"Oh, great, here it comes," said Hope, holding her arms out. "A Mikaelson family lecture."

The woman smiled, seeming to know this wasn't the right approach. "No, I won't waste time telling you about how you chose to torture yourself by going through this on your own when you have a family who loves you and who is trying to help you defeat this Watcher. You know it all already. I want to ask you to come with me. Your Aunt Freya knows a spell. She may be able to bring you back without any trouble. Then, we will glue ourselves to you until that old bitch is found and sent right to Hell. That, we promise."

Hope smirked, going to sit beside Rhysaenya. "Thanks, but no thanks. This really seems to be working for me. I got so sick of being controlled by my emotions. It's like: love, lose, grieve, repeat. I am finally free. I've decided I don't want to come back. I will defeat The Watcher and Aurora as I am and no one will ever dare cross me because I will prove I'm anything but a weakling. Everyone who has ever tried to kill me will wish they never made their intentions–" she held her stomach, a sour expression on her face.

"She's about to throw up," said Rhysaenya, forcing herself up to guide Hope to the trash can. The girl shoved her off, speeding outside. Rebekah and Rhysaenya followed, finding Hope already leaning over a trashcan, retching.

"Oh, sweetheart, let me help," offered Rebekah, trying to hold her hair back.

"I don't want your help!" said Hope angrily. "Why don't you get that? I don't want either of you here."

"Your humanity is off," said Rhysaenya. "You wanted me to bring you back, and I am not giving up on you, Hope, and neither is your family!"

"I never asked you to tell them!"

"You really thought I was going to follow you on this mission without letting them know how you were? They've helped me more than I even deserve, of course I was going to get them involved. They can do what I can't. I don't understand vampirism enough to deal with this alone."

"Flipping my switch was the best choice I could have made. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I crave freedom. The ability to choose my own fate, go wherever I want, be whoever I want. Forever. You're a hypocrite, Aunt Rebekah, because you don't understand any of this. So why don't you stop trying to be a martyr like my father and go live whatever life you want. Just let me do the same." She began to walk away. "Are you coming, Rhysaenya?"

Rebekah motioned for her to stay. "You're right," said Rebekah, withdrawing a dagger from her jacket pocket. "I am a hypocrite. I always hated it when Niklaus did this to me."

She sped to Hope, turning her around and daggering her right in the chest. The girl struggled, slumping forward as desiccated veins rose into her face.

"Hurry," said Rebekah, picking her up with ease. "We must get her back to New Orleans. Kol has assured me that he can teach Freya a spell to bring her back without a fuss. We'd place her in a Chambre de Chasse in the meantime, to keep her busy, and let the spell run its course."

She popped Hope in the trunk of her car, beckoning Rhysaenya into the passenger's seat. "Sure we shouldn't fly her there?" asked Rhysaenya as she buckled up. "It'd be faster."

"I adore this car," said Rebekah, feigning offense. "We're not leaving it behind." She smiled, turning the key. "Truth be told, I have never wanted to ride a dragon. Not to mention I've no way to guide you toward New Orleans. I know the roads but not the skies. Let's get a move on... quickly."

They hadn't even made it out of Charlottesville when one of the tires blew out. As Rebekah struggled to keep control, pulling off to the side of the road, Rhysaenya saw the trunk pop open, Hope climbing out annoyed, holding the dagger.

"You know," said Hope, leaning onto the driver's side window, "my first instinct was to blow the tire in an alley so the two of you could be left dumped on the side of the road like garbage."

"We're still family, Hope," said Rebekah, climbing out.

"What good is family if they just stab you in the back?" She shoved the dagger into Rebekah's hand. "Doesn't work too well on a tribrid, FYI."

Rebekah seemed to regret it. "I had to try. Nik would have."

"He's dead," snapped Hope. "And you know what killed him? Family. Love. Me. So maybe you should try to stop being like him."

"You'd do well taking your own advice."

Hope pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "That was a warning. So if you care about our family, stay away from me. Because I am my father's daughter. But I'm not gonna make the same mistakes."

Rebekah went right for the throat, "He and your mother would be so ashamed."

At this, Hope ripped off the three necklaces she always wore, one with the Mikaelson crest, the second with a wishbone, and the third with a crescent moon holding a green gem. "Take this and go," she demanded. "That's how you found me, isn't it? It's spelled, probably by Freya. You keep it. Always and forever. I'll keep your car. Rhysaenya, last chance. Stay with her here, in the middle of nowhere, or come with me."

"Go," urged Rebekah, imploring that she stay with Hope, making sure she wasn't alone. "We're not giving up on you, little one. We never will."

"Keep up with that attitude and I may have to take a page right out of The Watcher's playbook and make sure to add a nice little present to tell you to back off."

Rhysaenya slid back into the car, silent as Hope drove them away, leaving Rebekah in the dust. "She just wanted to help you," said Rhysaenya, the dizziness finally fading away. "She's your aunt, she loves you. She can help bring you back."

"Ugh, don't you get it? I don't want to be brought back. It's high time everyone realized that. Maybe it is necessary that we send a message. Who should I kill, huh? Whose death will really make them back off? You?" She reached out, touching her face. "As impactful as that would be, I may actually need your help. Should I hurt... the twins? Jed? I could turn them. Add them to our mission once they're useful and compellable. Oh, MG might be a good choice. He can be so insufferable. Ah. I have an idea. Start with those they care a little less about but would value very much at a time like this then work my way in. Ryan. Then, Dr. Saltzman. And only after that will we go for the jugular with MG."

"Ryan is the reason we have these leads," said Rhysaenya defensively. "He helped us. He's living his own life, you have no reason to hurt him."

"Ooh, are you getting testy because you don't want me to hurt your ex?"

"We ended on good terms. No hard feelings. Because even he could see that we cared about each other. Love isn't always a weakness, Hope. I certainly didn't think myself weak when I realized I cared for you."

"Yeah, well, that makes one of us."

She stared ahead at the road, jaw tight. "There's no need to hurt anyone to send any messages. If you're really an almighty tribrid, we can find Aurora and kill her right now. Unless you're afraid of getting things done."

Hope sneered lightly. "Oh, I'm not afraid of anything."

She pulled over again to perform another Locator Spell, this time using her own blood and Rhysaenya's, using the link that existed from having killed someone who looked like Aurora and the dragon's connection to Malivore to amplify her spell. This time, they got a hit. Which Rhysaenya took to mean that Aurora was waiting for them. It could be another trap.

They arrived at another large mansion, marching right to the front door. A butler with no eyes (at least, no eyes they could see, given his eyebrows and bottom eyelid were sewn together) opened up for them, calling out, "Yes?"

"I'm looking for the vampire who lives here," said Hope. "You're not looking at much of... anything."

"You must be Miss Mikaelson," said the man. "The mistress of the house has been expecting you, and extends you every courtesy. Please, come in."

The girls were led into a dining room, where a table awaited filled with food and also way too many candles. There lighting inside was dim despite the dark curtains being open, and it smelled musty, as if the room had been shut for a long time, left to gather dust.

"I see him in you."

Hope and Rhysaenya turned as the real Aurora de Martel strode up to them. She eyed Hope. "Hello, little bird," said Aurora, leaning forward and curtsying with her arms outstretched, perhaps thinking herself to be part of a ballet. "My name is Aurora de Martel."

"Oh, I know who you are," said Hope. "You were left under a rug in a spare room of the family compound. Sort of like an old lamp no one knew what to do with."

Aurora smiled tightly. "You know," she seemed to be eyeing Rhysaenya, "it's her family's arrogance that allowed the fools that were my partners in Triad to rescue me without it being noticed until it was too late. But rest assured, you will answer for the disrespect I've been shown. I know exactly what to do with you, miracle child."

"Oh, really? Well, you can't kill me. So, if that's a part of your master plan..."

"Death... lasts but a moment. No. You will wear the fate your father deserved."

"So, this has all been about my father? He dumped you. Get over it."

Aurora clicked her tongue. "Repairing the sort of damage I have experienced at the hands of your father is not so simple. Klaus destroyed my life, my very sanity over the course of centuries. So, can you imagine my disappointment when I was woken up and learned that he had taken the coward's way out for you?"

Rhysaenya lunged at her, knife drawn and pressed to Aurora's throat. "I know damn well you didn't just call him a coward for that," she said furiously as the redhead smirked, clearly excited by the prospect of Rhysaenya's outburst. "Hope has told me all about her family's past and she went into great detail when it came to you. Sounds like you couldn't get over a breakup and came back to cause trouble and now you're bitter that your plan fell through after you what, kidnapped his sister then his girlfriend then threatened the life of Hayley Marshall? How did you think he would get back with you after that? Sounds to me, if I have my facts straight, like the biggest threat to your 'sanity' wasn't Klaus at all, but your own brother, Tristan, who had you committed over and over because he didn't want to deal with you. Klaus is dead. Let this anger die with him." She pointed at Hope. "Her humanity is off. She's not going to care about you running your mouth about her parents. Save your breath or I will make sure it is your last one."

Aurora smiled cheekily. "Then she is a coward just like him. But perhaps what I have planned for her will fix that little problem, too." She reached over to a silver platter, removing the lid and revealing a blade made of bone, with a small leather hilt.

Hope wasn't impressed. "Well, I'll give you this much: you're great at underwhelming revelations. Yeah, am I supposed to be impressed?"

"This blade was imbued with black magic by a witch named Papa Tunde. It's one of four bones culled from The Hollow. Oh, I see that name rings a bell, at least."

This seemed to make Hope realize something, but she didn't revealit. "The Hollow is ancient history, almost like you're about to be."

"This blade all but broke your father," said Aurora. "Do you think yourself so strong as him?"

"I've seen that blade plenty of times and I know both my father and Mikael were able to rip it out on their own. Missed that little detail, did you? If that's your weapon of choice against me, you're prepared to lose. You know, I'll tell you what. Why don't you come at me with that thing. Let's find out firsthand."

"Darling, no," said Aurora. "That wouldn't be very sporting, would it? I'm royalty, after all, and you are my guest. This is my home, so I hold the high ground. It's only fair that I give you a head start."

"You're nothing," said Rhysaenya as Hope easily summoned the blade into her own hand. "You're not Obi Wan Kenobi and you sure as hell aren't royalty anymore. I am the last Targaryen; I would have been a princess. I'm sure that beats being some irrelevant Count's daughter." She gestured for Hope to hand her the blade. "She wants you to use it on her," she deduced. "She let us find her, she let us in, and she's using a weapon she knows you're not afraid of. She wants to give you a 'head start' as if she doesn't already know you'll beat her."

"It was a trap," agreed Hope. "Just like this–" she held up the blade, "Isn't Papa Tunde's blade at all. The blade was destroyed when The Hollow was raised." She held onto the blade, concentrating. It blurred, then morphed into a trident, the same one Ryan had tried to use on Hope in order to transfer his consciousness into her body.

"That's how The Watcher is doing it," realized Rhysaenya. "Isn't it?"

Hope nodded. "Using its powers to amplify her own Body Transfer Spells." She held out her hand, freezing Aurora in place as she tried to run. "Not so fast. Death lasts but a moment, right? For what you did, I will make you suffer."

-

A/N: Happy 300 pages! This is your official warning that there isn't a lot left to this story! Because of all the dumb stuff I cut out that Legacies did (plus background stuff I merely summarized while Rhysaenya was doing other things), it ends up being pretty short. I'd been planning for this story for months (I think I started the documents for this fic in December 2022 when I had COVID and had nothing else to do but rewatch Legacies and plan lol) and I tried to think of reasonable storylines... the only thing that really came to mind was this stuff I did with The Watcher (bear with me, I tried to refine it and it was not easy). Making a whole new 'season' did not come naturally and try as I might, I was at a loss for creating anything else so this is nearly the end of the road. I don't anticipate there being many more chapters left. Additionally, this will be my first notice that I will be taking a break from writing after this fic, and will resume with my Game of Thrones fics after August 26, 2023. Comment for more!