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❝Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.❞

- Haruki Murakami

A/N I'm sorry I haven't been updating, I just haven't felt like writing fanfics recently but I promised myself I'd finish this so I gotta out of spite. Can't promise the writing is that great, though, because I'm a lazy son-of-a-bitch and I hate editing. 

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Long ago, Niklaus Mikaelson had a semblance of humanity. He looked at the world, and saw the beauty in the simplicity of life. He had morals, emotions, and the feelings of a mortal. He didn't have the ego he developed over the centuries, he didn't have the hatred in his heart that had grown from seeds of despair, no, he had been human. 

There was no blood on his hands until his father cursed them with immortal life. There was nothing evil in him. 

Roxanne often wondered if it was his purity that drew her to him. The innocence that shrouded him when she first laid eyes on him in those woods. 

At the time, she'd been nearly a millenia old. She had centuries of knowledge and power under her belt. She'd seen all forms of cruelty that the world could offer, and had more blood on her hands than any other living person, besides her sister. 

Roxanne had long lost her purity, her innocence. She had been subjected to the horrors of the universe, and forced to walk through them because of her immortality. Something she had begun seeing as more of a curse than a blessing. 

By the time she'd met Niklaus, she'd had many lovers. She'd lost many, too. She had begun debating just handing herself over to Jonah, letting that ghost metal sword pierce her heart, so the curse of life could fade from her and she could be released back into the natural energies of the world. 

The simplicity of life. 

But, Klaus had changed her mind. As her hands had cupped his jaw and she'd looked into those sad, yet hopeful eyes, she'd seen something that changed her. Something that sparked an emotion deep inside her that she'd believed long dead. 

It was hope. It was her humanity. 

She'd felt his lips on her naked skin and for the first time in years, she truly experienced the feelings of being alive. Like a fire had been relit inside her chest. 

Love. It was that love that kept her going. Kept her fighting for a chance, a future. 

But, when she realized that she had to leave Niklaus, and would likely never look upon him again, that despair returned. The fire burning in her chest had begun to fade into embers. 

That was when Roxanne St. Claire realized she was pregnant. 

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In a large, spacious apartment in New Orleans, one of the youngest of the Mikaelson clan lounged. Long, model-type legs were kicked over the arm of a couch, and she held a worn book in hand, flipping carefully through the yellowed pages. 

"You know," the tribrid drawled in a rich, European accent, "I can hear you standing there, Marcellus." Her doe brown eyes didn't move away from the pages of the book, but a smile had begun to play on her maybelline red lips. 

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 07 ⏰

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