The first thing Davina did in the morning was hunt down coffee; no caffeine, no functioning Davina. It didn't matter if she was thirty-four or sixteen, or her thirty-four-year-old self stuck in her sixteen-year-old body: no caffeine, no function.
She should also look into buying a phone and calling Marcel before he tears apart New Orleans in its entirety.
When she had been sixteen the first time, she hadn't understood Marcel's adoption of her; he was better to her than any real parent or coven member she had had at the time. He had been patient, protective, stubborn, bossy, and infuriatingly helicopter-ish, and at the time Davina hadn't understood it, merely relishing in having someone's full attention and affections. She had been deprived of true affections for so long that Marcel's were all-consuming to her, and she'd give him whatever he wanted just to keep those affections. As a child she had thought Marcel's affections for her were contingent upon what she could do for him, which was a reasonable assumption given he called her a secret weapon.
Now though, now she got it. He didn't love her because he wanted something from her; he loved her like a real father loved a daughter. He let her have her tantrums, he would patiently wait for her to see reason, he'd let her stumble and fall, but he'd catch her, he'd listen to her and wait before bestowing wisdom or lessons upon her, and he had a zillion bad dad jokes on hand. He was more her dad than anyone else, and the first time around she hadn't seen that.
Davina hadn't noticed it until she had lost Marcel entirely from her life because of death.
Seeing Marcel mourn her had put a lot into perspective for her, especially when she had been resurrected by Inadu. Yes, Davina knew she had mattered to Marcel, but all of her relationships until Josh and Kol had been built upon a quid-pro-quo status, and she had grown cynical about hers and Marcel's relationship because of it. Seeing Marcel break down and grieve for her, as well as unleash his wrath on the Mikaelsons for her, had changed a lot of things for how Davina viewed her relationship with Marcel. It had also made Marcel her dad in her eyes, completely and irrefutably her dad.
Rousing her dismal thoughts from Marcel, she walked into the café and slowly shuffled along with the line to get coffee. Finally she got to the counter to place her order, and as she was about to pay, a voice broke her thoughts.
"Her order is on me," the man declared. Davina stiffened at the voice but slipped what little money she had left in her pocket as she nodded to the cashier and turned to thank the man. Turning to thank him, she saw it was Mr. Brooding from the bar last night.
"Thank you," she said with a smile as she slipped away to find a seat.
The vampire slid into the seat across from her, which had her frowning. "I wasn't aware company came with my coffee," she remarked dryly.
"I'm here about what you did to my brother," he said.
"Mmm, that party trick," she smirked a bit as she settled in her seat. "What about it?" she asked.
"What did you do, and how do we undo what you did to his memory?" he snarled.
"I did nothing worse than he'd have done to me," she remarked blandly. She smiled as her coffee was brought with the man's order; the waiter blushed a little, and she chuckled at the teen's blatant affections. Davina hadn't been the most… outgoing teen, her coven kept her on a tight leash, her mother kept her on lockdown, and Marcel had kept her alive at any cost. True, she had had friends—Hayley, Camille, Josh, and Aiden—but she hadn't been out and flirting with boys. Minus Tim, and that had ended as bad as bad could be.
"He might've had good intentions," Mr. Brooding stated.
"You don't follow a girl into an alley, at night, with good intentions," she mused as she poured cream into her coffee and stirred it up. "He'll be fine in a day or two, though I suppose if your witch could 'cure' him, you wouldn't be here."
"What did you do to him?" the vampire repeated.
"I removed myself from his mind," she answered. Now the other vampire's eyes went wide, and she softened. "Not to worry, no harm was done to him long-term, though I was disappointed he wasn't as cooperative as I needed."
"Who are you?"
"Me? Nobody," she answered. "Yourself?"
Now the vampire leaned back in his seat and looked her over with a curious gaze; Davina sipped her coffee and sighed in near bliss at the flavor.
"You're a witch," he deduced.
"Very good," she chuckled. "A little slow on taking in the obvious, but very good," she cheered him.
"Why are you here?"
"Oh, many reasons," she chuckled. "But mostly I'm here to make certain a particular Original burns." She was going to have to deal with Esther first; this might be the fast track to do that.
"You're against the Originals?" he asked.
"Mmm, in a manner of speaking," she offered carefully as she crossed her legs. In her twenty years of dealing with vampires, wolves, and witches, Davina had picked up a few things from the Mikaelsons on short routing—how to get where she wanted. The sooner she figured out what Klaus' newest toys were in the middle of, the sooner she would find where the Mikaelsons were. And wherever the Mikaelsons were, that would be where her husband was.
"I'm Stefan," he offered.
"Davina," she returned.
"Shouldn't you be in school, Davina?" he asked her.
"Now why would I be there?" She cocked her head and pouted a bit.
"You can't be older than fifteen," he pointed out.
"Sixteen," she mocked outrage. A mere few days into being sixteen, but she was sixteen nonetheless. "Where I am and what I do is not your concern."
"Well, it is if you have an original problem."
"So that'll be where they're hiding," Davina nodded. "Thanks," she waved him off as she hopped off her stool and walked out of the café to find the school. The coffee kept her hands warm as she made her way to the imposing building.
"Will you slow down!" A voice snapped, and a hand grabbed her arm and spun her to face Stefan again. "You can't just go charging in after them!" he warned her.
"I think you'll find I know that better than you ever could," she mused lightly. "However, you are Klaus' latest play toys," she snapped, which had her flicking her fingers as she removed herself from his grasp and then sent him to his knees as her eyes narrowed as she focused on his blood. "And because you are his playthings, I can only assume you invited them to wreak havoc, which means association with you is counterproductive to what I need and what I am to do."
"We didn't invite them," he gasped through the pain as she kept raising his blood at point.
"The only reason Originals do anything or go anywhere is because you invited them in, or you have something they want, or you've threatened their family," she said as she crouched down to his level as he fell to his hands. "So whyever they are here, whatever brought them here, you invited them. I am here for only one of them, and I don't need association with whatever conflict there is."
"They'll kill you," he gasped.
"Nothing they haven't done before," she stated as she dropped the spell. Spinning around, she left him. She made it to the high school and looked it over as she walked around its fence, assessing it carefully as she let her power unfurl as she reached out to see who it was here. She stopped when she saw him across the way.
His hair was longer than she knew he liked it. His tall frame stood intimidatingly as he watched the school.Biting her lip, she took a deep breath as she stared at her husband. He was alive and handsome as ever. God knew she wanted to run over there and kiss him senseless right now, which would undoubtedly be a bad idea. Kol would probably make a snack of her, because she knew him but he didn't know her, and she knew he didn't like his personal space invaded unless he initiated it.
Kol seemed to have sensed her because suddenly his head snapped over to her, his hair ruffled in the winter breeze, and his eyes narrowed dangerously on her; she felt the smile reflexively curling her lips. She didn't wave or anything; she knew him and knew she had his attention, which was enough for now. As she turned to leave him, she flicked her hand as she let the magic flurry about her.
Leaving him, she knew he was alive; now he'd be curious and come find her, and she could figure out how to keep him alive! She'd go to the library and see if she could find some news about what was happening in this town.
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Whatever the professor his sister talked about was planning, he knew it'd take a witch; the only witch within a hundred miles was the Bennett witch. So, he had decided to start there with his stalking and intel gathering, as they say. Kol didn't want to walk into this blind. So, he had started with the Bennett witch; the poor girl didn't even know how to hide her power or sense his presence even. It was pathetic in his mind because she was a Bennett, and they were powerful.
However, other than Ayana, who'd been like a mother to him, Kol had never connected with the Bennetts, really. There was irony there somewhere. Kol's relations with witches were always exceptional, but his connection with the Bennetts was poor at best.
In his exceptionally long life, Kol had never severed connections with witches; even if he had no magic to use for practicing, he was drawn to witches. They were creatures he understood; he knew he could learn from and teach; they could form mutually beneficial relationships and protect him or obliterate him; he loved them for it. Magic was wild and unpredictable, and he missed it; he missed having it in his blood, and he could feel that dead, cut-off part of himself. Kol understood where his obsession and desire to learn about his craft came from, which had him wondering about Shane's obsession and connection to the Bennett witch.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, which had torn him from his thoughts to look for the threat.
He had seen her immediately; she wasn't really hiding. He could smell her coffee all the way over here, as well as her scent: magnolias, honeysuckle, and something spicy. Her long, dark hair had obstructed some of his view of her face, but not her eyes; her eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue he had ever seen. She wasn't anything particularly or spectacularly beautiful; she was rather tiny, with homely features, but she was stunning in his mind.
A smile had curled her lips under his gaze, and he almost wanted to smile back; instead, she turned and started to walk away. She flicked her hand, which had a surge of magic fluttering about her as she left him.
"Kol," he turned to look at Rebekah. "What are you doing?" she demanded with exasperation.
"You said the professor had a witch," he retorted as he followed his sister. He'd track down the other witch later, when he could shake his sister and brothers.
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"What happened to you?" Damon asked when he staggered into the house. His blood still ached, and his body felt sluggish, in need of blood.
"That witch," he answered as he collapsed on the couch.
"The one that supposedly dumped me in a dumpster?" Damon asked him dryly.
"That one," he grimaced. For such a little thing, she sure did know how to pack a punch.
"What'd you learn?"
"Her name is Davina, and she's here to kill an Original," he sighed. "With what power she's displayed, I think she could do it," he admitted as he rubbed his brow. "She didn't even cast a verbal spell and boiled me from the inside out," he explained.
"Welp… this is great, just what we need," Damon declared theatrically as he grabbed a blood bag and handed it to Stefan.
Stefan didn't expand on the fact she had accused them of bringing their nightmare to them.
"Can we win her over?" Damon asked.
"I don't know," he admitted as he lay there finishing off the bag.
"This is great," Damon muttered sourly.
"She has a lot of power," he muttered. "A lot; we might be able to get her to help us find the cure. But I don't know. I couldn't figure out her motives."
"Well, we have bigger problems than an unknown witch," Damon sighed.
"What now?" He grumbled, rubbing his brow.
"Elena thinks she saw Kol in town," Damon explained.
"What?"
"She thinks; she doesn't know for sure," he shrugged.
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Over the course of her day, she had learned a lot about this town; it was a supernatural hotspot with a massive imbalance in nature, not because of the vampires but because of the magic that had been practiced here. Which had her expanding a little on her 'Honey To-Do List.' She was humming to herself as she read over the newspaper, sitting at a different restaurant, and sipping a Dr. Pepper when she saw a group of girls coming towards her table, but they veered off to a group of boys. She wondered what it would be like to be a normal sixteen-year-old; she never had been before.
Davina nearly jumped out of her seat when her husband was suddenly seated across from her and stifled a yelp of shock at his sudden appearance.
"Hello darling," he greeted her with his most charming smirk. The one she knew meant he was up to no good and about three seconds from trouble of some sort. "Figured you wanted me to find you after your little display," he mused.
"Evening," she greeted as she regained her calm and folded the paper she was reading up to set it aside. "How are you?"
"I can't decide," he mused playfully, flashing his teeth threateningly. "See, there's a pretty little witch who is new in town," he offered.
"So, what can't you decide?" she queried coyly.
"If she's suicidal or dangerous for attracting my attention," he said as his voice dropped an octave into a dangerous growl.
"How about dangerous?" she offered as she leaned on the table, propping her chin on her fist.
"Then you'll have to be eliminated," he decided.
"Not so fast," she countered as she forced her magic to hold him. Kol glared at her. "I actually came looking for you."
"For me?"
"Yes, you, Kol Mikaelson, the Original who knows all things witchy; my grandmother spoke highly of you, despite your betrayal," Davina stated. Now that she had his undivided attention and curiosity, she knew she was safe, which had her dropping her hold on her husband.
"Your grandmother?" he drawled out curiously.
"Mary-Alice Claire," she reminded him.
Kol lit up then, genuine delight flashing over his features. He smiled brightly as he perked up in his seat, and she smiled at his joy of hearing an old name he knew.
"Mary! How is the old bird?" he asked cheerfully.
"She passed away," Davina said softly.
"I'm sorry to hear that; she was truly a wonderful woman," he murmured somberly as he looked at his hands then.
"She was," Davina agreed. "She taught me a lot," she admitted as she folded her arms to hug herself. Her grandmother had been more of a mother than her own mother had been.
"Well, it appears you are aware of who I am, but that leaves you a mystery," he decided as he settled back in his seat. "You're obviously a Claire witch from New Orleans if Mary was your grandmother, and your charming accent is anything to go on."
"I am a Claire witch, and I am from New Orleans," she chuckled. "I'm Davina."
"And what's brought you looking for me, love?" He asked now as he relaxed and leaned back in his seat.
"This," she answered, pulling the hourglass out of her pocket and handing it over to him. "It's done something… I can't explain here or right now, not yet, but it's… time magic," she explained vaguely.
Kol lifted a brow as he turned it over in his hand.
"What happened to it?"
"Well, that's part of what I can't explain beyond it being crushed in my grasp when I was thrown through a wall," she explained. "I have no idea where it's from, what it's for, or what it really does beyond what it's done."
"What has it done?"
"Can't tell you that yet, because I don't believe it myself, and because you won't believe me right now," she replied. "Have you ever come across something like it?" she asked.
Kol hadn't recognized it in their kitchen, but Davina was hoping that maybe it was a memory he had lost between deaths and resurrections, vain as that hope was. She knew that his memory was perfect, but she was still hoping that he might have answers, dormant memories he hadn't thought of that might come to light now.
"No, I've never seen something like this," he assured her as he turned it over carefully. Pulling open the rings and examining the languages.
Davina sighed as she leaned back in her seat, slightly disappointed but unsurprised.
"You don't seem surprised by my answer, love," he remarked offhandedly.
"As I said, it's time magic," she sighed. "You were the one I asked about it first when I found it."
"Me? I don't know you," he sputtered incredulously.
"Time. Magic," she repeated before she took it back.
"Wait, are you from… the future?" he asked warily.
"Yes," she admitted.
"Huh," he nodded his head as he now reassessed her. "Prove it," he ordered childishly.
"You snore like a freight train," she stated. It was such a small, intimate detail she knew about him that she knew none of his lovers would've known, and only his family could know.
"I do not!" he protested indignantly as his face flushed a bit.
"You literally shake the room," she giggled from some of the memories she had. There were times she had contemplated smothering him with a pillow when she had headaches and his snores were reverberating through her skull.
"I do not!" He insisted his face was bright red now.
"You do too," she laughed.
"Uh-huh, and how do you know this!?" He snapped, scowling like a child.
"Because I know you, Kol, rather well," she smiled at him. "I'm not here to hurt you or your family," she promised. "I'm here to help you."
"And what do you want in return?" He asked her, now exceedingly wary.
"Nothing," she admitted with a soft smile on her lips. "You don't know what this hourglass is, which means that this is a dead end, officially, so instead of dwelling on it, I'm here to help you for as long as I am able."
He reassessed her carefully.
"I'm here to change things as long as I'm stuck here," she stated.
"Change things?"
"Yes," she admitted. "The one thing I needed help with is a dead end, and I'll help change things for the better rather than having a repeat of what happened the first time around."