A/N- Hi Everyone. Yes, I'm alive and updating again.

Elijah Mikaelson was many things.

A humanist. An alienist. A skilled pianist. A brilliant cook. An avid reader. A philosopher….

One of his earliest developed traits though, was that he was a fatalist.

An unfortunate flaw of his that he had tried to overcome, but centuries of watching humanity repeat the same mistakes over and over again- and his siblings do the same- tended to bring this out in him.

So, even when something changed for the better, even when he tried to be optimistic, there remained the dark part of him pointing out all the ways things could go wrong.

And this time, he supposed it had been right.

He and Katerina's relationship had been endangered by a pair of shoes.

What he had thought had been a common quarrel between the two of them, a lover's spat, nothing to be concerned about, had taken place the evening before, when Katherine had been shelving her new shoes with more care and concern than she showed anything else in the world.

His eyes had alighted on one pair and without even a thought, he had commented that they were in tragically poor taste. She had retaliated by throwing a shoe horn at his head and an hour later, they'd engaged in a rather passionate bout of sex in the bathroom.

Except that he'd woken up this morning to an empty bed and his phone ringing shrilly.

He makes the mistake of not checking the caller id before answering and is treated to a bout of temporary hearing loss when Niklaus shrieks his name in a pitch that shouldn't be achievable to a man of his age who wasn't a eunuch.

Switching the phone from one ear to the other, he still holds it at arm's length.

"Little brother, if you continue in this screaming, I fear for every window in this house," Elijah chastises gently and waits for him to calm himself.

His younger siblings all had such fiery tempers.

"Now, try at a more reasonable pitch and volume." he suggests upon hearing a ragged inhale on the other end of the phone.

"What. The. Bloody. Hell. Is. Going. On. Now?" Niklaus demands in biting tones and Elijah frowns,

"Elaborate." he requests, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed, figuring that whatever calamity was befalling New Orleans, he should probably be dressed for it.

"Caroline just told me that Katherine has changed her relationship status on Facebook to 'It's complicated'."

And Elijah is aware that his brother has spoken, and he registers the words, but he's so thrown by the situation that he needs a moment to process.

"You woke me up to scream about Facebook relationship status changes?" he queries, speaking slowly to ensure that he did not suffer a delusion.

"This is serious, Elijah," Niklaus snaps, "Social media is a primary form of communication and if the bloody city thinks you and Katherine are at odds again…"

"You know," he muses aloud, now perusing his wardrobe at a more leisurely pace,

"I think I finally comprehend what people mean when they say, 'Literally, I can't even'."

"Big brother..." Niklaus begins but Elijah cuts him off,

"After everything Katerina and I have endured, five hundred years of separation, two deaths, two resurrections, an apocalypse, the wars of New Orleans, the time I was cursed into insanity and you think our ending would be decided over Facebook?" he clicks his tongue, "Niklaus at the very least I would rate a twitter mention."

Elijah doesn't have Facebook, at first because he was above it and then out of sheer stubbornness and finally, as a means of building his relationship with Caroline.

She brought him the daily updates and gossip over afternoon cups of tea.

So, he doesn't have a way of confirming for himself that Katerina had indeed changed their relationship online, but he doesn't need to.

Nadia is the next to come looking for him, loitering on the landing outside his bedroom door, with Lilith sitting beside her, her tail swishing back and forth like a relaxed metronome.

"I heard you and my mother are breaking up." she offers by way of greeting, her lips twitching and her tone warm with amusement, clearly unconcerned as she tilts her face, so he can kiss her cheek,

"Well, I hear we've had something altered on social media, but I think I shall withhold the heartbreak until I receive the emoji-laden text."

She smirks and follows him downstairs, "Dare I ask what heinous crime you committed?"

There was a time that those words between them would have been serious. A time of suspicion and rightful distrust, bridges that had had to be built, so many issues to have overcome; so even in the midst of an admittedly rather confusing morning, he's glad at least that this display shows how far the two of them have come.

"First, I simply want to begin by stating that while my response might have been a little…" he pauses, searching for the right word as he rifles through the fridge filled with blood bags until he comes across his favourite type, "Crass. My sentiment still stands, and it is a hill I will gladly die on, as the youth of today say."

He fills his coffee mug and offers Nadia her own bag, knowing she's a fan of O-positive but she declines,

"This sounds ominous." she muses as he opens the microwave door.

"Really, it did not appear any better or worse than previous fights your mother and I have had, and honestly, I think everyone is vastly exaggerating the importance of Facebook."

"Now you're stalling." She interjects.

"Very well," he relents, sighing, "I called one of Katerina's new pair of shoes hideous."

Rather inopportunely, the microwave timer chooses that moment to sound, a clear little ding as if to highlight the supposed earth-shattering crime he had committed.

"You know," Nadia sighs as Lilith leaps onto the kitchen island with a disapproving yowl, "I shall truly miss you, step-father."

This was the first time she had called him step-father, he would have liked to have heard the title under less…ridiculous circumstances.

"Am I allowed a defense?" he questions, irritably, "If so, I shall simply state that the shoes were Dolce and Gabbana's emerald heeled…"

"Ah," Nadia nods, "Yes, I know the ones, with the gold and the diamonds?"

"The very monstrosities." He confirms, "And really, your mother usually has much better taste."

He realises only a moment after he has finished speaking that he should have clarified that Katerina usually had better taste in shoes, rather than giving Nadia an opening to disparage her taste in men.

"They were a little obscene." Nadia admits, and he holds up his hand in a gesture, "Thank-you."

"But you know how mother is about her shoes," she counters, "She loves them dearly."

"And I thought she felt at least a tenth of that affection for me." He quips, taking a sip from his mug and frowning when the blood felt cool.

With a sigh, he turns to the microwave and taps the buttons, already guessing the problem,

"She adjusted the settings to spite me."

Lilith meows in confirmation and he dropped his head, "Today is going to be a long one, I suspect."

Caroline had a study at Le Coeur Jardin and an office in the French Quarter, opposite the Abattoir through which she ran her numerous committees, planned her events and fulfilled her role within the worldwide supernatural order.

Her employees were mostly humans who either had a knowledge of the supernatural or a strong suspicion that eighteen-year-old women didn't move, speak or act the way Caroline Forbes did. Nor did such women have husbands, a rather strange rolodex of contacts, an unusual assortment of family members and the ability to forgo sleep for days on end and consume vast amounts of alcohol without consequence.

Some of them recognised him, the receptionist was new, but she took in his pristine, expensive suit and either guessed who he was or assumed a man so well-dressed could not possibly be a threat and waved him through.

Caroline was on a conference call that seemed to be rather urgent by the speed with which she was conversing, pacing back and forth by a large window, gesturing with her hands and tapping at the device in her ear when he approached, as if Bluetooth headsets were something entirely new to him.

Why on earth did she think he was a troglodyte?

Perhaps he would have to compel someone to make him a Facebook account.

She ends the call, or the people on the receiving end collapse from a collective nervous breakdown and turns on him with the same manner a general would confront a mutinous captive.

"Are you okay?" she demands, "What's the plan? Are we gonna have to work through this or…?

We?

Had he and Caroline's relationship progressed to the point where they cried on each other's shoulder over break-ups?

Considering she was married to his brother, he rather hoped that he would never have to find out.

"This matter had been blown completely out of proportion," he snaps, irritably. "Really, she'll avoid me today, possibly throw something at me tonight, have Lilith roll around on one of my morning suits and we'll be as we were tomorrow."

"Seriously?!" Caroline mutters, "How are Klaus and I the least dramatic couple in the house?"

"Don't come crying to me because you haven't developed the theatrics of an eccentric immortal yet," Elijah jests,

"By the way, do you know where my dear fiancée is currently avoiding me?"

Caroline rolls her eyes in a manner somehow affectionate, "Probably off plotting some petty revenge against you."

"No doubt."

"At least your phones aren't blowing up with people offering to be your rebounds," she continues, as she moves to her laptop,

"Probably less because they think this is just a temporary fight and more because…you know, people who try and come between you two tend to end up brutally murdered."

"Really," he protests, "That's only happened…" he trails off as he does the arithmetic in his mind and realises that number is simply far too high for him to make his case successfully,

"Those that attempt to come between us are typically those who would do us or our families harm, whatever method they employed, they would have ended up dead regardless."

"Uh huh," Caroline murmurs, turning her attention from him to her presumed plan for global dominance,

"Welp, I don't know where Katherine is, but if this becomes something legit serious, let me know, okay?"

"Why Caroline," he gasps, putting a hand to his chest, "Don't tell me that you'd reschedule your takeover of this city just for me?"

She rolls her eyes again, "You know, eccentric immortal is only cute on tv shows and in movies," she notes, "You don't have the…flamboyance to pull it off."

"I did in the roaring twenties and thirties," he replies, with a hint of nostalgia, "Such lovely fashions then."

Once those nearest and dearest to Katerina and himself realised that this current spat between them was no cause for immediate concern, they went back to their regular scheduling.

Which for them and for the greater population of New Orleans made this a regular Tuesday.

Unfortunately, his day was supposed to have consisted of negotiations with the werewolves- which he had missed- and a stroll through the quarter as a show of power with himself and his fiancée.

Somewhat difficult when he had no idea where she was.

She was ignoring his attempts to contact her, and he was beginning to feel worry take root in his stomach.

Though it was typical to give lovers the silent treatment when one was angry with them, there was simply too many times in their world where being incommunicado meant you had been kidnapped, cursed, attacked or killed.

Even he and his siblings, who had famously gone decades and sometimes even a full century without contact, now expected each and every one with the last name Mikaelson to be reachable by cellular phone, email, social media or pager.

So, when his watch tells him that it is three in the afternoon and he hasn't seen hide nor hair of his fiancée in six hours, nor received a single response to any of his messages, he hurries back home to locate Lilith.

Instead, he comes across one of her offspring, Aslan is standing guard at the front door, caught in the act of cleaning his paw when Elijah approaches.

"Are you watching out for me?" he asks, not entirely sure whether to expect a response. Lilith was Katerina's familiar, but the magic hadn't passed as strongly to her kittens. Still, Aslan turns tail and hurries inside, with Elijah right on his heels until he gets halfway down the hallway and his hair stands on end.

As a vampire, he was kept alive by magic and having encountered various forms of it over the centuries, he could sense when it was nearby in greater quantities than usual.

However, this house was so heavily warded against enemies, and every last witch who wasn't an ally had been chased from the better part of the Eastern seaboard that even if his ears hadn't picked up on the low chanting, he would have still only had one guess as to whom the witch in question was.

He hesitates, one foot paused in the act of taking a step as he wonders whether or not to continue. Aslan has no such worry, and Elijah hears him making his way out the backdoor, across the yard to the greenhouse, pawing at the door and scampering away when Lilith hisses at him.

Well, if the kitten was too great an interruption to be borne, he would likely not be welcome either.

Still, at least he knew where she was.

The ground floor library- or, as the other residents in the house insisted on calling it, the study- had a communal laptop that had originally belonged to Caroline Forbes until she had ceded possession because according to her it was simply easier for them all to share that one than for her to try and buy them each an individual laptop, that suited their needs.

He was browsing the internet, searching the latest batch of horror movies and thrillers for he and Caroline to watch when Katerina trudged into the room and all but dropped to the floor.

He rises out of his chair in alarm, but she waves him off.

With blood-soaked hands.

"Please tell me that I don't need to source a new gardener," He pleads,

"The Vatican has threatened to resurrect Van Helsing if I take another one of their employees."

Katerina shakes her head and positions herself until she's sitting against the wall,

"Don't worry," she yawns, "Not human blood, animal."

The scent is tiptoeing through the air and he has to sniff twice before it enters his nostrils and when it does, he recoils.

"Rancid animal," he corrects, resisting the urge to pinch his nose,

"Darling…you best wash your hands with turpentine or consider amputation."

She snorts, "Such a delicate flower," she teases, "As if you and your siblings didn't used to eat rats, cats and every other animal that rhymes."

"When we were new to vampirism and still fearful of hunting humans," he points out, "Dare I ask why you decided to go elbow deep into a long dead rabbit?"

"Needed the maggots."

Not an acceptable answer and quite frankly, this conversation was entirely unsatisfactory to him.

He strides quickly to the nearest bathroom and begins running the shower, waiting until the water was warm before going back for the woman he loved.

She didn't protest when he picked her up in his arms and even held her arms so that the blood wouldn't stain his suit.

He places her on the bath mat and she began washing her hands, letting the water chase the mess down the drain and then reaching for the antibacterial soap kept under the sink in case of emergencies.

Once he is absolutely certain she is clean and relatively free of germs- easily fifteen minutes after she herself comes to that conclusion- he turns off the water and she perches herself on the rim of the bathtub.

After only a second of hesitation, he joined her.

"I do hope the spell wasn't to try and make me a fan of your new shoes," he jokes drily, and she leans her head against his shoulder,

"I overreacted because I needed you to think I was angry with you, to distract you so I could cast this magic without you finding out about it."

Hurt stabs his heart and he swallowed against the pain,

"You could have asked for privacy and I would have gladly given it to you." He whispers, but she shakes her head,

"You might have wanted to know what the spell was, and I couldn't tell you until I was sure it would work."

A thrill of fear courses up his spine and he takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb,

"Katerina, you are scaring me."

More so when he sees the tears in her eyes, but there's the beginning of a smile on her lips,

"Elijah, my lord and love," she murmurs, "I've found a way for me to have your baby."

A/N- Thanks for reading!