Andra adored Landon.
"You are such a sweet little thing," she said, still holding him as Marcel generously arranged the funds needed to get Seylah to start over in a new city. "Look at that nose, oh, we all have the same nose, don't we baby, don't we?"
"He's so... quiet," said Ryan, tilting his head and smiling just from the comfort he felt knowing he and Andra were both okay, all things considered. It had been a very, very long time since they'd been able to exhale and believe 'I am safe.' "I wonder if you would have been like this as a baby." He considered it then scrunched up his nose. "No, I think you'd be a wailer. You came out already arguing."
"What do you expect?" She 'booped' Landon's nose gently, then moved her finger around, watching how his eyes tracked the movement. "Not all of us are darlings like baby Landon, no we aren't. And baby Landon is so smart, yes he is."
Ryan knew what she was thinking before she even said it outright. She was already too attached. She would have adopted every stray animal and abandoned child they came across since 1520 if it wasn't for Ryan reminding her that their lifestyle was not ideal for an innocent like that.
But the circumstances were different now. "So, you're keeping him?" he asked. "Is this certain?"
"Of course I'm keeping him! Look at him," she held Landon up for emphasis as if Ryan didn't already know what he looked like or what the conversation was about. The baby whined and curled up his little fingers, balling his fists as Andra squealed in delight. "He's precious and he's our brother. We can't just drop him off at the nearest orphanage or set him up with a foster family. If he gets injured and bleeds black, what will they think? If he somehow has a fatal accident and springs back up, he'll be hunted. He needs to be with me, where I can protect him and teach him."
"We don't even know if he'll be able to do those things. Malivore never managed to... procreate before. What if this little guy consumes things? Or what if he does nothing at all?"
"Then we will find out as he grows and deal with it. Whether he's special or just like any other human, I will do everything I can to support him. Doesn't matter to me. Would you rather some human be raising him, unaware of the supernatural and unable to protect him or respect him if he's different in any way? I've learned enough about how things in this modern world work to know that those raised by strangers still tend to experience abuse. I won't make you take care of him, Ryan, not if you don't want to. I'll do it myself. I want to."
"And what about Malivore?"
"What can we do with that small pit right now? Nothing. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time. We have no way to defeat him and we have no way of knowing anything unless we go in, which is basically suicide. But in the present we have this baby, our little brother. I don't want to let him go. I want to take care of him. I can't walk away from this. Just look at him, he is so—"
"—cute," sighed Ryan. "Yes, you tend to acquire or do things because of cute-ness. I didn't forget." His smile grew slightly when he saw how Andra laid Landon on her chest, the baby's hands wiggling out to hug her neck. "You think knives are cute and apparently... babies too."
Andra pouted, rubbing Landon's back. "Look at his little face, Ryan, he's so sweet."
He relented. "Okay, fine, we'll keep him."
She grinned. "Hear that, Landon? You're getting a new home. I have a room for you to use, all for yourself. Would you like that? I've never been a big sister nor have I been a mother but I will learn to be a good one, just for you."
Landon heaved a sigh that she estimated to be far too dramatic for such a small child.
Marcel cleared his throat, approaching as Seylah took her leave, one small smile of satisfaction in the direction of Andra, Ryan, and Landon. The middle of the three beamed encouragingly, hoping she would know that they wished her the best, along with the silent promise 'We'll take care of him. You don't have to worry.' Seylah deserved to be free.
"Ryan," said Andra, gesturing toward the vampire, "this is my good friend Marcel. He's been helping me since I got to New Orleans. And he has gone out of his way to assist me, particularly in driving me all over the place."
Ryan shook his hand cordially. "Yeah, I know you. We actually had a drink together in 1919, when you summoned Mikael to New Orleans. I was trying to talk to him, to see if I could make him remember Andra so he'd help me. Didn't really work out at the time." His lips tilted upward, grin a bit more crooked, "But I guess it all does in the end. Thank you for bringing my sister to me."
Marcel nodded. "Of course. I don't think I'll ever get used to the fact that memories are just completely wiped away with the whole pit situation. Was it a good conversation, at least?"
"From what I remember, you were a funny guy. Passionate about your city. Reminded me a lot of Malia. No wonder you two get along."
"He's rebuilt the city," said Andra proudly. "And I'm sure that in time, he'll be king a—"
"I am," said Marcel. "I found out yesterday when you were with Davina. Klaus gave me the reins back. After what happened to his daughter, he doesn't want it anymore."
Andra smiled sadly. "I know you will do good with it, Marcel."
"I plan to. The community of vampires needs to be rebuilt. I think... if he's willing... I want him to help me. I think it could be a good distraction for him."
"Okay," said Ryan, holding up his hands, "what do you mean daughter? Vampires can't have kids."
Andra cracked a smile. "Oh boy. You have a lot to learn. Probably less than I did but still... a lot. Come on. Let's talk about it on the drive home."
The drive to New Orleans was peaceful. Landon slept almost the entire time, occasionally waking and wishing to drink some milk out of small bottles Andra prepared on their first pit stop. He really wasn't fussy at all. She wondered if this was just a calm baby or if these were golem side effects. After all, if he was anything like her and Ryan, he technically didn't need to eat or cry or feel any of the discomfort he might be going through; he was just meant to think he did to resemble a human. Then again, he might have real organs, considering Seylah was completely human.
"We're here!" said Andra, unlocking the door to her apartment and leading all Ryan and Marcel in. "Aw, look at this." She observed a small bouquet. "Davina. That sweet girl."
"Davina is the mentee and kind of daughter?" asked Ryan for clarification from Marcel.
"Yes!" chirped Andra when Marcel only nodded and picked up the bouquet. "You've got it. Don't worry, there's plenty more time to explain things. You can drive, right?"
"Yeah... up to whatever model existed in 1933."
"Well you can help me learn then. I'll need to be able to drive now; I won't subject poor Landon to a walk to the Jardin Gris every day. Oh, you'll love it there!"
Marcel set a piece of paper down. "Before I go, just write down everything you need and I'll bring it to you. Are you three all going to be living here?"
"For now," said Ryan. "Until I inevitably get tired of Andra's snores."
"I don't snore! I literally can't."
"Doesn't mean you don't." He began to make a list of supplies, most of which were going to be necessary for Landon. "I'll get some stuff for myself on my own. Malia has money, don't you Mali?"
Andra glared daggers at him. "I hate it when you call me 'Mali' because it sounds like Malivore. How much harder is it for you to add that last letter?"
"It's not hard at all but I like that it makes you really pissed."
"If I didn't have a baby in my arms, I'd kill you."
"In front of Landon? Strike one."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Regarding the money, yes, I will buy anything you need. In fact, don't worry about the list. Thank you, Marcel, you're very kind to offer but you've already done so much. I will go to the store as soon as we get settled."
"It's really no trouble," said Marcel kindly. "Like... seriously. I don't have anywhere else to be or anything else to do and friends help their friends, right?"
"Really, you don't have to, I'd feel bad..."
"Andra, shut up, I want to, just finish the list and I'll handle it."
Ryan pursed his lips, looking at Landon, who was seemingly the only other person aware of a strange tension between them.
While Marcel was out gathering supplies, Davina came to see the baby.
"He's got beautiful eyes," she observed, giggling when Landon cooed. "Aw, he is really tiny..."
"I wonder how tall he'll be," mused Ryan, watching as Davina tickled one of Landon's toes. "Seylah was what, five foot seven maybe? I'm six feet and one inch. Will he be as tall as me or only as tall as her?"
"I'm pretty sure the answer is more complicated factoring in the genetics," said Davina pensively.
"Exactly," said Andra from the kitchen, making meatball soup per Ryan's request. "Besides, I'm only five feet and three inches. Some of our other siblings were taller than you, Ryan, and some were shorter than me. I don't think there was any set pattern. And there probably won't be for Landon, either."
"I'm sure there's a witchy way to predict it," said Davina. "Maybe I'll ask my teacher." She smiled. "It feels good to be able to say that."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked Ryan.
She shrugged. "Anything. I have a choice now, which is nice. If you two could have careers, what would you be?"
Andra hummed. "I don't know. I like the Jardin Gris. Being a manager and working on my own terms. It's boring sometimes but I enjoy it. Organizing, working with merchandise I understand, having the place to myself whenever I want to. I guess if I had to pick something more complicated, maybe I'd do like... uh..." she smiled sheepishly, "I realize I have a very particular skill set."
"Easy," said Ryan, snapping his fingers. "FBI agent. Or you can still be a hitwoman, it's not like the job doesn't exist anymore. If I had to pick, I'd be... a chef."
"You hardly cook! I always had to feed you! You only survived before I was created because you freeloaded off the cult feasts!"
"Well, you know how you told me that I'd regret not learning from you when you had the patience to teach me? That did actually happen when you were tossed into the pit. Suddenly I had to feed myself and let's just say it was a rough couple of years, mostly with me trying to meditate so food could become unnecessary. I learned, with time. I'm pretty good at it. I could be a chef now if I wanted to be. Oh! Actually, I know what I'd like to be. A pilot."
"Marcel could easily compel you into a program for that," said Davina. "You just have to ask."
"Everyone has such cool powers," said Ryan, shaking his head. "You could probably fly if you just concentrated. Marcel can mind-control piloting lessons and a billion other things. Andra and I are... well, resilient I guess? But I don't know if I'd consider that a power."
"I would," said Andra. "Mikael taught me to endure pain, to survive despite massive injuries, to fight until I literally drop. There is power in persevering."
Davina's eyes flickered between Andra and Ryan, looking as though she wished to make a comment but didn't think it right. Neither golem picked up on it, and even if they had they might have assumed a witch would obviously laugh at the idea of there being power in persevering when aside from that, they couldn't do the same things other supernaturals could.
"She's a good kid," said Ryan once he was washing the dishes following Davina's departure. "I can see why you like her."
"She's been through a lot she didn't deserve. I figured the least I could do was give her a friend, someone to talk to, and a place where she can feel safe, like she's not being judged, only supported."
"Look at you, adopting kids left and right. They don't call them 'Queen Mothers' for nothing."
She made a face, "Isn't that when it's the mother of whoever is ruling but she used to be queen? What do you–? Oh, you little shit."
"I'm just saying, I think the King of New Orleans likes you and since the guy has a soft spot for helping kids, you're making him and the entire city shoot heart eyes at you. He probably realizes you'd make a good Queen. Hey, what kind of perks do I get being the Queen's brother? Does that make me a Prince? Could we be considered royalty?"
Andra was flabbergasted, and opened her mouth several times before finally bursting out, "Marcel does not like me that way! He had a thing with the woman I told you about, Cami, she's nice and she's a bartender at Rousseau's, and he is still in love with Rebekah Mikaelson. No, he's just friendly and supportive. Not everyone who is nice to you is doing it with romantic inclinations."
Ryan didn't believe that for a second. "Okay, whatever. Forget I brought it up."
(He certainly wasn't going to forget. But since they were barely reuniting after two hundred years apart, he wasn't eager to start a fight and get off to a terrible start. He already had a plan in place to ask Camille O'Connell about her history with Marcel and what she knew about Marcel and Rebekah; something told him that things weren't as serious as Andra believed them to be.)
Marcel arrived with their supplies in the evening, once Ryan had fallen asleep and Landon had been fed and burped again, soon ready to join Andra in her room until tomorrow, when she'd rearrange the apartment.
"This is so much," whispered Andra, staring at the pile he'd created in the corner by the entrance. "Oh my god, Marcel, thank you."
"You're welcome," said Marcel, offering to hold Landon while she examined everything. "This delivery went better than... whatever you were referencing earlier."
Her expression fell. "I... I guess I should clarify, even if you won't remember." She spoke cautiously, "Klaus's... daughter. We took her to Georgia, to the Malivore pit. It's how my brothers were released, how Seylah was released. I had you turn away when I put the baby in the pit. You just forgot because... Malivore."
He furrowed his brows. "But I still remember Klaus had a daughter."
"Yes, because everyone's told you that. But you don't remember what happened after she died, do you?"
"I guess not. This is still hard to wrap my mind around. Look, anything you need to tell me, just say it, even if I don't remember. I can't promise I'm going to get it right away but... I'll get used to it. Oh, by the way... that stack on top of the crib is the adoption paperwork. I'll get everything sorted out, got a guy that works in this department. Once you sign he'll be yours, officially. Landon Kirby Clarke."
"Hear that, baby boy?" asked Andra softly, caressing Landon's head. "Now there are three Clarkes."
"You seem so much happier," murmured Marcel. "It's been one day and you are just... well, I wouldn't have described you as a ray of sunshine when we first met but your whole expression tells a different story now."
"I have known Ryan my whole life," she murmured. "He was always there for me, always protecting me. He knew how to live without me and he did, before and after, but a part of me broke when I was tossed into that pit. Screaming every minute of the day only for no one to hear me, only for darkness to persist, to know I was completely alone. Having him and Landon here is like... putting back those pieces that chipped off and reminding me that not all hope is lost."
"I'm glad you have your brother back, Andra."
"I wouldn't have him if it weren't for you. Thank you for everything... seriously. For the supplies, the support, for driving me to Kansas, for driving us back, for getting this apartment... I didn't do anything to earn it but you've helped me anyway and I just want you to know how much I appreciate it."
"Don't say that. You gave me real advice, honest and to the point, things said to my face that nobody else really tried to tell me before. Or if they did, I didn't listen and they gave up. You persisted and you kept me alive. I don't think Klaus would've handed back the reins to the city if you hadn't kept me from starting a war with him that would have ended... really poorly. Maybe this way he and I can try to work things out, in some way. I don't want us to hate each other and I don't want to fight, I really don't. You've stood by me even when I was being a lot stupider than a King should be."
He placed Landon in her arms again. "You and I both know what it's like to be warriors, to have to fight to survive. And we also learned that it's okay to ask for help and to not lose sight of who we are, to retain our humanity despite all the killing that surrounds us. We've been strong, and it's something admirable. I'll always be willing to help you, Andra."
Re-introducing Ryan to society went a lot more smoothly. Now, was taking Landon to Rousseau's the best idea? Maybe not. But Cami was pleased to meet him and shared a connection with Ryan, who said he had always wanted another sister when the blonde mentioned he reminded her of Sean.
Andra was glad that he was already making friends; he'd always been better at it than her. And within the first meeting he'd already solidified himself as a candidate for being a chef at Rousseau's, en route to be a bartender (because he found it 'fun') before he eventually joined a program to be a pilot.
They hadn't yet gotten a chance to see the Originals, given the appearance they were maintaining about what had happened. Apparently, the night the wolves had attacked, the white oak stake had disappeared from the Compound. With Klaus's energy diminished each full moon and absolutely no leads, they didn't think it safe to leave.
Marcel and Andra were trying to figure out who could have taken it, but kept coming up on dead ends. If they had to assume, they believed a witch to be involved. After all, it was the witches who'd been following Esther, wanting to steal her grimoire, and who had made a deal with the wolves to get Klaus and Hayley's child in the first place. It was reasonable to believe that they were trying to get rid of vampires as Esther had long wanted to do.
Landon grew more with each day. Andra had begun to learn how to drive, but in the meantime was walking to the Jardin Gris with the little boy strapped to her chest, eyes tracking the movement of everything around them and often cooing whenever he saw someone he recognized, namely the few street vendors they passed by on a daily basis. One elderly man who sold drawings had already nicknamed him 'Little Lan' and made it a point to say hello to him every time he saw him.
He slept peacefully behind the counter, and sometimes Andra would pick him back up while restocking, since he liked to watch her hands move. He cried seldomly, usually when a loud car passed by outside or sometimes if Davina used her stapler while doing homework. She'd since put a Silencing Spell on it, wondering how the stapler bothered him but not the loud printer she used to obtain her worksheets.
Marcel was a regular customer, not because he wanted to buy anything, but because he liked to check in on them. He always came and went quickly; the wolves and witches were very against there being vampires in the Quarter, and Marcel was someone easily recognized. He liked seeing Davina sitting calmly beside Andra with her homework in her lap, feeling safe and welcomed enough to hang out with her in the Jardin Gris.
Most evenings, Davina dined at Andra's apartment to criticize Ryan's food (a new hobby that had been developed to keep the chef 'on his toes') if she wasn't already meeting with Cami for some afternoon chats. It pleased him to see her interacting with his friends, who clearly cared a great deal about her.
"It's been weeks," said Andra as the fourth full moon since Hope's birth drew nearer. "And he's still in there?"
"Yeah," said Marcel, wiggling his daylight ring over Landon's hands. "Grab it, buddy, you can do it. I really want us to start rebuilding the vampire community together, I think it would be good for him. Ah! There you go, Landon."
The baby looked up at him, wiggling the ring and whimpering as the weight of it began to bother him. Andra plucked up it, offering it back to Marcel. "When do you think you can turn the recruits you have? Maybe waiting for Klaus isn't ideal. Get the vampires trained and ready and we will put up a fight. I'm being stalked on my way to work because they know who I associate with. No one's tried anything because they know any better but they know where I live, Marcel, and I don't know how much longer I can tolerate it before I just build another bomb and 'kaboom,' that whole cemetery."
"No, they're not ready to be turned yet. It would take too long to train them. The full moon is in three days. You said the other time we met that Ryan had a plan."
"I do have a plan," said Ryan, lowering his glasses (which he wore because he believed women in the twenty-first century were suckers for guys with glasses) and setting down his new laptop. "I, unlike Malia here, still have access to a whole bunch of magical artifacts and what New Orleans witches would call dark objects."
He opened one of the cupboards, pulling out what looked like a small marble donut. "This is The Subsume of Antioch. Looks like a decoration, but actually houses a whole lot of magic. It was made by a siphoner witch a couple of centuries back, used to suck out the power of other magical objects and store it for long periods of time. It fit in her pocket and was more ideal than carrying around every individual magical object she wanted to channel. This thing has like, infinite capacity to store magic, but it really never gets to that point because it's constantly taking it and letting out depending on who channels it."
Marcel raised a brow. "Okay, and how does this help?"
"The black kyanite stones Malia got came in bulk, right, and they were all used in the same exact spell, and they are allcausing Klaus to be weakened by the wolves who use it so they don't turn on the full moon. Far as we know, most of the Crescent Pack uses them except for those who didn't want to bow down to the witches. So, if we get even one of those stones from that batch and place it in the center of the Subsume, it will absorb all the magic from that singular spell and render them all useless. Then, all we have to do is give the Subsume to Klaus so he can perform a little ritual to get rid of the spell. At least it's more efficient than trying to get every individual black kyanite stone together to undo their magic. All we need is one, then that same spell is stored in this one item that we have in our possession."
"And I already know whose ring and stone we're taking," said Andra. "Ryan and I can take Oliver down easily. Get that ring off him, put it in the Subsume, and the whole pack of witch sympathizers can kiss their ability to control their form goodbye. The witches will no doubt try to make more rings but by the time they get their own batch of black kyanite, the wolves will be vulnerable and the witches will be in a frenzy. Bam. Attack."
"You know," said Marcel, tapping his head and smirking at Landon, "I like it a whole lot better when your sister is helping plan the war, not stop it."
Ryan let out a laugh. "Oh... you know it's bad when it gets to that point."