The silence inside the room was broken only by the sound of uneven breaths and quiet sobs that were gradually fading away. I didn't change my position for a single second. I kept my arms firm around Hope, feeling the warmth of her body against mine and the desperate grip with which she held onto the fabric of my blue shirt.
I knew I shouldn't say anything. There were no magic words or prepared speeches that could take away the pain of losing a mother or the weight of everything that had been happening. So I just stayed there, serving as her anchor, letting time pass without any rush while she let out everything she needed to.
Little by little, the tension in Hope's shoulders began to yield. The heavy crying gave way to a gentler silence, and her breathing started to stabilize against my chest.
Suddenly, the bedroom door, which was left ajar, creaked softly as it was pushed open a little further.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freya's figure appear in the doorway. She stopped at the entrance and observed us there, hugging on the edge of the bed. A subtle trace of a smile appeared on her lips for a fraction of a second at the sight of the comfort Hope had found in me. You could tell that a part of her wanted to make one of those jokes to lighten the mood, but the moment didn't allow for it. Freya's eyes were also slightly red and glassy; she had clearly been crying alone just a few minutes ago, feeling the pain of losing Hayley as much as the rest of us.
To break the moment without being intrusive, Freya knocked lightly twice on the wooden door to get our attention.
The soft sound made Hope move. She slowly pulled back from the hug, wiping her face with the back of her hands and fixing her hair with a quick gesture to try to disguise her condition. I carefully released my arms, offering her one last calm look before standing up beside the bed.
"Well... I'll leave you two alone," I said, adjusting the collar of my shirt and taking a step toward the exit, making room for Freya to come in.
I offered a discreet nod before passing Freya at the door and heading down the hallway, leaving the room in silence once again.
Freya stared at the closing door and took a deep breath, wiping the trail of tears from her face before pulling up a chair and sitting in front of Hope, on the edge of the bed.
"I spoke with your father a little while ago..." Freya began, keeping her voice soft so as not to overwhelm her. "We talked and decided that we're going to proceed with the funeral ceremony tonight."
Hope merely nodded in silence. Her lips pressed into a thin line at the mention of Klaus. She still held inside her chest the warm, dense flare of anger burning from their recent fight, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and didn't say a single word about him. As hurt as she was by her father, Hope knew that the focus today needed to be elsewhere. Nothing was going to take precedence over saying goodbye to Hayley Marshall.
Observing her niece's calmer countenance, Freya looked toward the door Ethan had just walked out of and let out a light sigh.
"It was good that Ethan came with us to New Orleans," she commented casually, resting her hands on her knees.
Hope glanced at her instantly. Her cheeks flushed subtly before she averted her eyes to the floor, trying to hide her reaction.
"You think so?" Hope asked in a low voice, feigning a lack of interest that didn't even convince herself.
"I'm sure of it," Freya affirmed with a sincere smile, seeking her eyes again. "He's helping a lot, Hope. Not just because of what he did on the street earlier today, but because of the way he stays by your side. He brought a sense of stability that you really needed."
A few hours later
Ethan's POV:
Night finally fell over New Orleans, bringing with it a thick, biting cold air. In the heart of the forest, on the edge of a large, calm lake, Hayley Marshall's funeral took place far from the eyes of the French Quarter.
Dozens of Crescent pack members and close allies were scattered along the shore, their shadows dancing under the flickering yellow light of dozens of lit torches. The crackling of the fire and the rustling of leaves in the wind were the only sounds breaking the respectful silence of that farewell.
Leaning against the rough trunk of a tall tree, slightly set back from the crowd, I observed everything in silence. I kept my hands in my pants pockets and my posture restrained, preferring to give that community and that family space to have their moment. In the back of my mind, I felt like I had already meddled too much in the Mikaelson dynamic for a single day. I was an outsider in that world of kings, witches, and ancestral bloodlines, and I respected their grief enough not to try to steal the spotlight.
At the center of everyone's attention, resting gently upon the dark waters of the lake, was the small wooden boat carrying Hayley's coffin.
Hope stood right at the water's edge, the night wind lightly messing up her hair. She stared at her mother's coffin one last time before the final ritual was completed. The fire from the first torch touched the wood of the boat, and the flames began to spread slowly, consuming the vessel as it was pushed gently and began to slide smoothly across the surface of the lake.
I didn't avert my eyes from Hope for a single second. From where I stood, I could see the reflection of the orange flames glistening in the tears streaming silently down her face.
"Goodbye, Mom..." Hope whispered, her voice choked up as she let the words drift into the wind, watching the burning vessel move farther and farther away toward the center of the lake.
Seconds after the sentence escaped her lips, I noticed a subtle movement emerging among the nearby trees. A man of imposing stature in a dark suit approached with slow steps. He stopped next to Hope and, without saying a word, reached out and held her hand firmly, offering silent support in that farewell.
I narrowed my eyes slightly from my spot hidden in the shadows. I didn't know who that man was—I had never seen him in person before—but from the heavy aura he carried and the way Hope didn't pull back from his touch, I deduced immediately: it could only be her father. Klaus Mikaelson. And he was right there in the flesh.
"What are you doing? You can't be here..." Hope said, her voice low and laden with calm concern.
"I can. Just for a moment," Klaus replied, keeping his voice steady, though seized by a rare emotion. He slowly turned his face to look at his daughter. "Our family has endless battles ahead, Hope... but right now, I need to be here with my daughter."
They looked back at the water together, watching the boat slide toward the center of the lake, carrying the body of the Crescent queen under the light of the torches and the moonlight.
"I will always be here for you, Hope," Klaus continued, the gravity of his words cutting through the cold night air. "Even if I can't actually hold your hand... I will call you, I will write to you, and Freya will find a way to give us some time together using magic."
Hope felt a lump form in her throat, tears once again welling up in her blue eyes at her father's promise.
"You need to know that this is the last time we can do this," Klaus said, stepping closer and wrapping Hope in a real, physical embrace. The warmth of that hug was everything she needed—the fatherly refuge she had begged for so desperately earlier.
Suddenly, the sky above the forest darkened in a sharp snap. A violent bolt of lightning cut through the clouds and struck with a deafening crash right in the middle of Hayley's boat. The force of the impact caused the wood to explode, and fire began to spread rapidly across the center of the lake, burning over the water in a terrifying display caused by the Hybrid's presence there.
Hope slowly pulled back from the embrace, looking at the magical reaction on the lake and then at her father.
"Dad... the fire is spreading. You need to go," she said in a calm but firm tone, knowing the risks of him remaining there in the flesh.
"Just one more minute..." Klaus pleaded, ignoring the pressure in the air. He placed his hand gently on Hope's face, staring at her with all the love he held in his chest. "I love you."
"I love you too," Hope replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Knowing he couldn't risk his daughter's safety any longer, Klaus took a step back to leave. But before disappearing into the darkness of the forest, the Original Hybrid walked with heavy steps straight toward the tree Ethan was leaning against.
The air around Ethan chilled instantly. Klaus stopped right in front of him, chest to chest, his blue eyes flashing a dangerous yellow, the intimidating presence of an ancient monster weighing heavily on the boy's chest.
"Boy, do not get too close to my daughter," Klaus growled, his voice deep and sharp. "If you do anything to make her sad... know that it will be the last thing you ever do."
Without waiting for an answer, Klaus turned and vanished into the shadows of the trees, leaving behind only the sound of the fire spreading across the lake and his threat echoing in the air.
While this brief exchange between Ethan and Klaus was happening, Hope never stopped following and listening to her father with her eyes. From where she stood by the edge of the lake, she observed every inch of Klaus's posture, catching the deep tone of his voice and the subtle threat directed at Ethan.
The cold night wind stirred the burning waters, but Hope's mind seemed strangely clear amidst the chaos. Looking at her father walking away into the shadows and at the fire burning over the lake because of the curse that kept them apart, a dark determination took hold of her chest.
She was already tired of broken promises, vain sacrifices, and the weight of a curse that destroyed everything her family touched. There, in silence, watching the last ashes of her mother's boat float through the air, Hope already had an idea of what to do to solve all of her family's problems once and for all.