War 1

Kol, Finn, and Elijah stood at the front of the Mikaelson mansion, the moonlight casting long shadows behind them. Elijah adjusted his cufflinks, his calm demeanor masking the tension in the air. He glanced at Kol, his brow slightly raised.

"Are you sure they'll fight back?" Elijah asked, his voice even.

Kol smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Oh, I'm sure," he said. "They've hated us from the moment we were created. The Guardians see us as a stain on nature's balance, something that needs to be wiped out. They even went so far as to create weapons—Elena and Katherine, for example. But their mother didn't want that for her children, so she hid Katherine from them. That decision cost her dearly. They hunted her for centuries before she met John Gilbert and, well, started over. Then Elena happened."

Finn chuckled softly, his smirk cold and confident. "So, now she's decided to fight back because her children are under threat from Klaus? Interesting. Let them come. I'll enjoy watching them try."

Before Elijah could respond, Stefan strolled into view, his posture relaxed, his hands in his pockets. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze flicking to Elijah, who offered a faint smile.

"I see you've gotten your memories back, Ripper," Elijah said, the amusement clear in his tone.

Stefan returned the smirk. "Yeah, thanks to Klaus. He's the one who compelled me to forget in the first place. But that's old news. I'm here to tell you to expect some visitors soon—some group calling themselves the Guardians. Oh, and my brother and the rest of the gang are tagging along."

Elijah exchanged a glance with Kol, who didn't look the least bit surprised. "We already know," Kol said with a shrug, his smirk widening.

Stefan turned his head to see Ivar approaching from the shadows. Behind him, the rest of the Mikaelson family followed—Rebekah, Klaus, Henrik, Freya, and Alyssa, who looked more annoyed than anything else. They moved together, a unified force, their presence commanding attention.

"Nothing surprises you guys, does it?" he said, glancing at Kol.

Kol's smirk deepened. "Not when it comes to predictable moves like this." He straightened up, his gaze fixed on the approaching group. "Let's see what they've got."

The Mikaelson family stood together, their presence imposing as the moonlight cast eerie shadows across the field. They were ready, their expressions ranging from calm to excited, each anticipating the battle ahead.

From the far side of the field, another group of vampires appeared, moving like shadows through the night. As they came closer, the Originals' collective sigh could be heard—except for Klaus, who broke into a wide grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Well, well, Ivar the Boneless!" Klaus shouted, his tone filled with glee. "I've missed you, old friend! Glad you could finally join the fun."

At the front of the group, Ivar grinned back, his sharp features lit by the pale glow of the moon. "Miss an opportunity for war? Never. Even if it's a bit... small-scale," he said, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment. "This era is far too peaceful for my taste."

Klaus threw his head back and laughed, his joy almost unsettling. "Don't you worry, Ivar. Tonight's going to be plenty of fun!"

Alyssa, standing slightly to the side, crossed her arms and smirked, looking from Ivar to Ivar. "So now there's someone walking around with the same name as you, Ivar? Add that to the guy who has your face. What's next? A clone?"

Her smirk quickly vanished, though, as she turned her gaze to the other side of the field. Emerging from the darkness, the Guardians appeared, their figures sharp and purposeful as they closed the distance. With them came Elena, Katherine, Damon, Alaric, Jenna, and Caroline, their expressions a mix of determination and anger.

The air grew heavy as the two sides stared each other down, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. The Mikaelsons stood tall, their confidence unshaken, while the Guardians and their allies stopped opposite them, their resolve clear.

Kol leaned toward Elijah, his voice low but laced with amusement. "Well, this just got interesting."

Elijah adjusted his cufflinks again, keeping his calm, measured demeanor. "Indeed, it has."

Klaus stepped forward slightly, his grin never faltering. "Welcome, everyone. Let's not waste any more time, shall we?"

Ivar raised a hand, stopping Klaus before he could take another step forward. His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. "Not yet, Klaus." He glanced at the opposing group and then back at his family. "Let's all calm down and have a talk first. We, the Originals, have done nothing against you. We've never even met you until today. So why sacrifice your lives for nothing?"

The Guardians didn't flinch at his words, but one of them, a woman with piercing eyes and a fierce presence, stepped forward. Ryannen. Her disgust was evident as she looked at Ivar.

"You say you've done nothing wrong to us?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Your very existence is a sin to nature and all that is holy and pure. You're devil spawns."

A soft chuckle broke the tension. It came from Freya, standing with an almost amused expression. "Devil spawns, you say? Well, yes, that's not far from the truth," she said with a slight smirk. "But from the way you said it, I get the feeling you're not talking about us. You're referring to another devil, aren't you? Care to elaborate?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Ryannen hesitated. Then another Guardian, Mylea, stepped forward. Her expression was serious, but there was a hint of regret in her eyes as she spoke.

"You were made into vampires by one of our own," Mylea said, her voice quieter than Ryannen's but no less firm.

That admission made the other Guardians exchange sharp glances. Their frowns and tense postures spoke volumes, and Mylea quickly corrected herself. "He's... he's a fallen. A corrupted Guardian. That's why he's called the Devil. And we're here to clean up his mess."

Ivar raised a brow, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Your mess?" he repeated, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the night. He took a slow step forward, his eyes locking with Mylea's. "We have nothing to do with you or some fool you call the Devil. We are what we are because our mother made us so. If you're using that as an excuse to pick a fight with us…"

His voice dropped, taking on a cold, almost predatory edge. "Then I'm afraid none of you are leaving here alive."

The wind seemed to pick up, rustling the trees and carrying the weight of Ivar's words across the field. On the other side, the Guardians held their ground, their resolve unshaken, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in their eyes.

Kol stepped forward, his trademark smirk back in place as he looked at Ryannen. "I love how you lot talk about balance and purity. Makes you sound so noble. But let me tell you, sweetheart, there's nothing noble about what you're doing here."

Freya tilted her head, her gaze still fixed on Mylea. "Cleaning up his mess, you said. How exactly do you plan to do that?"

Ryannen stepped in front of Mylea, cutting her off. "By erasing every last one of you," she said coldly.

Klaus laughed, his voice breaking the tension like a whip crack. "Oh, I do love a good threat," he said, his grin wide and dangerous. "Let's see if you can back it up."

The Guardians tensed, their weapons glowing faintly with energy, while the Mikaelsons stood firm, their confidence unshaken. Ivar glanced back at Klaus, his expression unreadable.

"Well," Ivar said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "If they want war, who are we to deny them?"

A/N

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