[There are things she could ask along the way, how do you destroy someone already dead chief among them. But Cami can only stare, transfixed by the words Freya weaves together, this terrible, impossible truth that makes her gut ache and twist with each new revelation. Death hadn’t been enough for those bastards, the ancestors who were supposed to care for their descendants. Instead they meant to destroy all hope, to not only kill Davina but erase her soul from existence.
To ensure there would be absolutely no chance she could be saved.
It doesn’t surprise her that Marcel, Vincent, and Kol would all rally to her side. For a moment, one desperate, needy moment, some spark of belief in Cami even thinks that this could turn out okay. Davina being a witch might for once be used to do her some good, instead of putting her in the path of the storm.
Really, she should know better by now. And yet even so, even with all the darkness that exists in their lives, always on the outskirts until it swallows each of them whole?
Cami cannot believe what she hears next.
Perhaps it had been an impossible choice. Perhaps someone removed a few steps more might see it that way. But the only thing burning in Cami’s throat now isn’t the alcohol she’s swallowed down; it’s vile revulsion, the sickening realization of what Freya means to say even before she says it, paints that picture of merciless Mikaelson self-preservation, always and forever, family above all.
Their family, above a girl who had only lost her innocence because she’d been forced to survive instead. Cami’s eyes are wide, shocked, as she stares at Freya. Her hand has slipped down from her mouth now, resting on her chest but Cami can’t feel it. She can hardly feel anything but the swirl of thoughts, of truths, of what she’s always known deep down but never really let herself believe.
She can’t even feel the tears streaming down her face. She just braces herself against the bar, her knuckles white where she grips the edge.]
You just left her there. [To save Klaus, to save Hayley, to make sure a babe didn’t grow up without the parents who loved her beyond words: this is what Cami does not, cannot think in this moment. Not when her head is full of Davina’s screams, her pleas—the memory of the fear when the ancestors merely called her a traitor in their twisted version of an afterlife.]
Why didn’t you restore the circle? [It should have been simple, right? Just as easy as condemning Davina. Freya had the power of the ancestors themselves—she should have been able to restore the circle.] --You could’ve. You…you could’ve helped her, or done something!
[Davina didn’t have to be condemned. She shouldn’t have been.]
no subject
To ensure there would be absolutely no chance she could be saved.
It doesn’t surprise her that Marcel, Vincent, and Kol would all rally to her side. For a moment, one desperate, needy moment, some spark of belief in Cami even thinks that this could turn out okay. Davina being a witch might for once be used to do her some good, instead of putting her in the path of the storm.
Really, she should know better by now. And yet even so, even with all the darkness that exists in their lives, always on the outskirts until it swallows each of them whole?
Cami cannot believe what she hears next.
Perhaps it had been an impossible choice. Perhaps someone removed a few steps more might see it that way. But the only thing burning in Cami’s throat now isn’t the alcohol she’s swallowed down; it’s vile revulsion, the sickening realization of what Freya means to say even before she says it, paints that picture of merciless Mikaelson self-preservation, always and forever, family above all.
Their family, above a girl who had only lost her innocence because she’d been forced to survive instead. Cami’s eyes are wide, shocked, as she stares at Freya. Her hand has slipped down from her mouth now, resting on her chest but Cami can’t feel it. She can hardly feel anything but the swirl of thoughts, of truths, of what she’s always known deep down but never really let herself believe.
She can’t even feel the tears streaming down her face. She just braces herself against the bar, her knuckles white where she grips the edge.]
You just left her there. [To save Klaus, to save Hayley, to make sure a babe didn’t grow up without the parents who loved her beyond words: this is what Cami does not, cannot think in this moment. Not when her head is full of Davina’s screams, her pleas—the memory of the fear when the ancestors merely called her a traitor in their twisted version of an afterlife.]
Why didn’t you restore the circle? [It should have been simple, right? Just as easy as condemning Davina. Freya had the power of the ancestors themselves—she should have been able to restore the circle.] --You could’ve. You…you could’ve helped her, or done something!
[Davina didn’t have to be condemned. She shouldn’t have been.]