Triumvirate

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry. About the other day. You were right to be mad about the gargoyle fight. Alaric shouldn't have endangered himself like that. Not for me."

Hope was standing in the threshold of Saltzman Twins' room; she wasn't quite inside or outside. Even now Hope was in between, neither here nor there.

Lizzie Saltzman was elsewhere, probably antagonizing Josie's ex Penelope out of some misplaced sense of chivalry...or trying to get into Raphael's pants.

Josie Saltzman however, was lying on her bed, book set aside. She couldn't quite meet Hope's piercing gaze, but she did manage to say, "I shouldn't have yelled like that. I don't want you dead. I really don't, and I know how I sounded. You didn't do anything wrong."

Hope scoffed, but it sounded more weary than cocky. Josie's eyes rose to meet Hope's in surprise, but only for a second before she dropped them again. Hope acknowledged the awkward moment with a forced chuckle. Her hands absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her burgundy shirt. Josie picked up her book and set it on the bedside table next to the stack of manga she had clamoured to look like Jane Austen novels.

Hope let the silence continue until a darker thought went through her mind and spoke it aloud almost despite herself, "I should've been quicker with that gargoyle. My aunt Freya could've killed that thing with a flick of her wrist on a bad day…I need to learn to stop pulling my punches before someone else I care about dies because of me. Goodnight Josie."

Hope was gone from Josie's room before the latter could articulate a proper response.

Josie took a deep breath before she reached up and shut the lamp off. Hope just apologized. She apologized for something that Josie knew wasn't the red-haired girl's fault. Josie berated herself for not being quicker to reassure the girl she'd known since they were both seven years old.

Hope might as well have apologized for existing, for being somehow unworthy of saving from danger during a deadly situation. Josie huffed and rubbed her eyes until she saw lights behind her eyelids. How could she be such a mean girl like Lizzie?

"Whoa there, what's got your panties in a twist?" Josie looked up and her eyes focused in on her sister who had just walked in. Josie quickly glanced at the clock. It had been several minutes since Hope walked out. Lizzie's smirk had returned from the chaos of yesterday…yesterday, when Hope had saved them again; this time from a fucking spider monster from Greek myth. Something in Josie's expression must've looked off, enough so that Lizzie walked over and sat on Josie's bed.

"Hope." Josie mumbled.

"Hope? What did she say to you? Was it for what you to dad a few days ago? I swear that arrogant little princess–," Lizzie didn't have a chance to really fire herself up before Josie put a hand around her sister's wrist, cutting off Lizzie's tirade.

"She didn't say anything mean. She just came by to apologize for the gargoyle thing."

Lizzie cocked her head in confusion, "What about it? She saved us– oh. 'Cause dad was a self-sacrificing dumbass and she blames herself?"

Josie nodded, then raised an eyebrow, "When did you become all attentative to Hope Marshall's moods?"

Lizzie's expression became more pensive. "It's Hope Mikaelson now. And she would apologize for that. I don't have to like her to see how guilty she feels about everything. That girl lives inside a Hero Complex the size of a mansion."

"I don't think hero complexes are mansions Lizzie."

Lizzie rolled her eyes, "Whatever." Lizzie got up and moved over to the closet, shedding her clothes on her way. Josie rolled her eyes, again. Deep down, Josie Saltzman knew that Lizzie being extra was going to destroy her eye muscles from all the rolling. But the break in conversation allowed Josie to reflect on Lizzie's earlier tone when she talked about Hope's hero complex.

"Did she say something to you?" Josie asked.

Lizzie shrugged, "Not exactly, but she said something about grief that I don't think I really understand, and it made me think about things from her perspective a little. About dad almost dying for her. I think in her own way, it bothered her as much as it bothered us."

"That's oddly insightful of you," Josie commented. And truly it was. Lizzie was not usually prone to outbursts of honesty.

"I know right? It's almost like the blonde bimbo has a brain and can feel sympathy! Did we just switch roles?" Lizzie waved her hands around her head as she said it, as if her words were anything less than doused in sarcasm.

Josie half-heartedly lobbed a pillow at her twin. Lizzie laughed as she caught it. Ignoring Josie's expectant outstretched arms, Lizzie placed it gingerly on her own bed, trolling the shit out of Josie. Yeah, she wasn't getting that pillow back until morning at the earliest.

With a long-suffering sigh, Josie rolled on her side and switched off her lamp. "Goodnight Lizzie."

"Why all this concern for Hope all of a sudden?" Lizzie asked as she pulled her own covers up to her chest.

Josie thought for a moment about it before saying, "She saved our lives twice in a week."

Elsewhere in the Salvatore School, Alaric Saltzman was glaring at his phone. One of his closest friends had just gone radio silent. Or been attacked. Probably attacked.

As if it wasn't enough that one of his students flagrantly fed from Mystic High's students and basically tried to attack Matt. Matthew Donovan the goddamned sheriff. Who had threatened the students to Alaric's faceHow long was it until Caroline got back?

Caroline. Who had yet to be informed that each of her daughters had brushes with death in the last few days. And that dragons were real, and there was a potential apocalypse on the horizon connected to a knife that may no longer even be in the good guys' possession.

As if it wasn't bad enough, now the twins were getting out of his control. Even worse, he knew they were right. Hope did save them. Frankly, he lost enough sleep already.

He peered at the grandfather clock that Caroline had procured from one of the Mikaelson family's many private collections. She was so excited about it he didn't have the heart to say no. He may not be in love with Caroline, but saying no to her pouty face was a losing battle, especially when the entire primary school class of first-graders was standing behind her. Cheater.

A knock rattling his door jolted Alaric from memory lane. He crossed the room and opened the door to his favourite and most aggravating student.

"We need to talk," Hope said as she brushed passed him and sat down without waiting for so much as a word.

The clock struck eleven as Alaric closed the door, fortifying his resolve for what would surely be a whammy of a conversation.