COMMON CURTSEY

Ch. 1

Aside from the matriarchs, patriarchs, elders, and a long line of other titles Bonnie quit trying to remember, there were two figures that took prominence on the morning they all first assembled for lessons on their debut, in the enormous courtyard of the French Quarter compound that housed the Mikaelsons.

"Remember your three Ps." The woman came across all feline, green eyes slitted and alert, the lines of her body sleek and graceful, with every strand of her red curls perfectly in place and her nails sharp and manicured. She wore her magic like a royal cloak, for all the world to feel. "Power, politics, predictability. Keep them guessing."

"I always add a fourth," came the mellow, deep tones of the man standing beside her. He reminded Bonnie of a Doberman, long, lean, and intelligent. When she concentrated, she sensed his magic, subtle but strong. "Pathos. Your emotions. Other people's. Study them, know them, and most importantly, experience them. We're witches. Emotions are as intrinsic to our magic as oxygen is to our physical bodies."

"Not what I was taught," came the insolent voice. "Emotions make you dumb. Dumb gets you killed."

Along the line of the young witches that stood before the pair, the one who'd spoken out of turn was tall, her blonde curls swept messily over to one side. The fleeting glance shared between Genevieve and Vincent gave Bonnie bad vibes.

When Genevieve took a step forward, magic surged towards the blonde briefly, and then towards the fountain a yard away. The water there hissed, steam rising over its surface.

Thirteen heads stared cautiously. One paid it no mind. The same one that Genevieve neared.

"Olivia, how do you feel?" she asked.

The blonde shrugged.

Genevieve spared a hard stare down the line.

"None of you," she said. "Can interrupt. Not a peep, not a twitch. Not while Olivia needs her first proper lesson."

"Genevieve," Vincent moved forward now, the guard dog look still in place but now tinged with doubt.

"You, too," his partner hissed, before she leaned in to Olivia. "Would you care if you got hurt right now?"

Olivia gave a bored look back.

"Can't summon the energy to talk, can you?" Genevieve tilted an elegant head to the fountain. "Go dip your fingers into that fountain."

Still with that air of total indifference, Olivia trudged over towards the growing steam.

"Don't stop her!" warned Genevieve.

Bonnie had been pushed into a heritage spanning the length of several millennia, but leaving her old human life behind didn't mean she'd tossed her humanity aside with it. Sprinting out from the line to stop Olivia, she was beyond grateful to find two others, joining in dissent. Together, they reached the blonde and dragged her away from the hiss of water that bubbled violently mere inches from their skin.

Something breezed past Bonnie's cheek. In the next second, Liv stumbled and shook her head as if to clear it, and the water abruptly ceased its restless lapping. Mist continued wafting in the air near her head, as Bonnie chanced a look and found Genevieve and Vincent both, with identical inscrutable smiles.

"Congratulations, Olivia," Genevieve stated coolly. "Your lack of emotions nearly caused you third-degree burns."

Then she turned away.

Vincent waved a hand before the fountain, clearing the mist and soothing away the remaining bubbles until the surface of the water turned calm again.

"Genevieve shut it off," he explained in deep, patient tones. "Your emotions. It's a difficult spell to master. For a reason. Pathos is not about embracing being a basketcase, ladies. We have the ability to regulate our emotions. That's not a witch thing, just part and parcel of being members of the human race. Without that, we're looking at anarchy."

When they rejoined the line, Bonnie tried to ignore the way the blonde kept glancing over. Mainly because she wasn't sure herself if that whole display was meant more to teach or embarrass. Olivia didn't come across as the forgiving type.

"There's thirteen of you," Genevieve called out. "We have three separate casting rooms for our Initiates. Decide how you want to split that."

The others were quick to pair off. As a child, she couldn't remember moments in PE where she'd been the last man standing, last one picked, in need of a partner that usually ended up being the coach. No, she'd always been coordinated, on top of being sporty, so she'd been lucky enough to avoid that distinction. Today wasn't the day for her to finally get a taste of it.

Facing her were the other pair of witches who'd helped pull Olivia back from the fountain, as well as Olivia herself. They drifted together, smiles hesitant and fleeting.

-X-x-X-x-X-

Her mom and dad had moved a lot. Never in one place too long, never an explanation for why. But she'd learned the tells, as she got older. Her parents always looked tired; the weeks leading up to a move, that tired gave way to something else that eventually, she learned to place as panic.

Mom worked long hours as a nanny. The days off were what Bonnie lived for. Abby Hopkins took her on long walks and when they got home, showed her the best way to prune the small garden in their terrace that grew edible bulbs and useful herbs. Those were the days she had her mom, fully. Dad meanwhile, had an office at home, so technically, she always had him, except he stayed behind the closed doors of his office, a headset attached to his ear and the bright glare of his dual monitors turning his eyes bleary by the time dinner rolled around.

But he took her to school in the mornings, picked her up in the afternoons to bring her straight back home, and she rarely left it. Her grades were good. She took swimming lessons but nothing else. Her parents never ever let her do sleepovers at anyone's house, although they did let her bring her friends over, every time she asked. Only, the older she grew the more it struck her as odd how closely her parents monitored those visits. They became the weird parents, and Bonnie grew to resent it.

When she was old enough to know better, she finally asked. Why they were so nosy, her parents. Her friends never gave anyone problems. And she was lucky enough that no matter where they lived, she always made new ones. Her parents never answered her questions, including the one she learned to stop wondering about: why they never stayed in one place longer than a year.

It went on this way for a time, even past high school, when she'd finally reached the age most kids would've gone somewhere far away to learn how to function on their own.

And she was still there, under the watchful eye of her mom and dad.

Until the day she was home alone, for once.

Then came the door knock.

"I'm Stefan. Your grandmother sent me."

But caution had been ingrained in her by both her parents from an early age. She left him to stand outside on the porch, while she called Grams.

Five minutes later, he sat in the living room, simple, crisp words falling from his mouth that on the surface she understood. Yet it took some time for her mind to fully grasp.

"Can you come with me to Mystic Falls? There's a ceremony you're needed for. Sheila can explain the rest."

The irony was how he presented it as a question. As if she had a choice about it, now that he'd popped holes across the bubble of her life.

-X-x-X-x-X-

Daytime, Bonnie liked it better.

Under a bright hot sun, she sweltered as she walked along Decatur to find her way to iconic buildings, shops, and eateries. At the Cafe Du Monde, sitting outdoors alone beneath a green and white awning, partially hiding herself from the passing crowd behind a thick white column, it was easy to pretend all she cared about was her beignet and cafe au lait.

The view of horse-drawn carriages clopping along Jackson Square gave her ideas about extending the facade of normal. Amidst the summer greenery stood sun-dappled historical buildings with secrets. In the distance, the towering center spire of St. Louis Cathedral beckoned. Nearby, at the cemetery, the grave of a voodoo priestess called for a visit.

She could go, play tourist, ignore the sense of crawling along her skin and that new tingle in her blood-her recently developed extra sense-that whispered, they're watching.

In the day, she was more careful. Her thoughts were clearer, meaning less chance of a misstep.

Night contained far more shadows and the risk of having them spread to corners of her mind she'd rather stayed lit. Night gave her too many glimpses of the mass of sweaty bodies slithering together like a giant snake, winding their way through narrow streets and pulsing, bright bars and restaurants, teeming with the beat of trombones and sax and piano and above all of that, the happy chatter of ignorant souls.

Before that fateful knock on her door, she would have been a part of that crowd, stumbling her way along with the clueless mob.

Sheltered all her life by parents who'd done their best to protect her from the dangers of magic, and now here she was, under the tutelage of several allied covens, being taught how to explore nature, spirits, grimoires, and all things mystical.

Her phone buzzed.

Just checking in. Where are you? - Gen

Grabbing pastries. Will bring some for everyone.

Come back soon. Training starts in an hour. Guest tutor starting today.

Her old sheltered life had started looking rosier in hindsight, now that her new freedom offered more restrictions and rules.

-X-x-X-x-X-

Mystic Falls held sleepiness to it, sleepiness and, upon closer look, secrets.

Her mom accompanied her and Stefan. They walked together, hand in hand, following him through a bright, manicured lawn and the double doors of a creamy mansion, only to be cloaked in gloom once inside. Dark curtains, shadowed faces, and a lot of black leather jackets. Facing them at every turn.

Except for one. A tall man in a hoodie, strolling in past an arch, his face tilted up in a smile. The darkness rested in his eyes, just a hint of it, as they swept her from head to toe, assessing, before they turned dismissive.

The blonde woman in leather turned to her equally-leathered companion, his sharp blue eyes glazed over with boredom.

"How adorable," she said, loud enough to carry around the massive room so everyone could hear the posh tones of her accent dripping with disdain. "Your brother brought along a little lamb."

Her mom's grip on her hand tightened, at the same moment the blonde stumbled, grabbing her head, groaning. The drink she'd carried tumbled to the floor, red spilling over the once-spotless white of a plush rug.

Bonnie was confused, and stayed that way, even when Grams appeared, her familiar face calm and soothing, as she touched her mom's shoulder.

"Abby," was the only thing her grandmother said.

Whatever was wrong with the blonde, went away.

Even more baffled, Bonnie followed her grandmother and mother both as they disappeared into the next room, ignoring the way everyone tracked them the entire length of the room. It wouldn't do here to try to grab her mother's hand again, before all these unlined faces that looked only a few years older than her own, but with eyes that spoke of far too much knowing.

But Stefan was at her back and they were nearly out.

A blond man with stubble on his jaw who'd been lounging by the bar cabinet glided over to block their way.

"Won't you introduce your new comrade, Stefan?"

The rush of impatience swept over her fiercely, in the face of all these strangers and their schoolyard bullying tactics.

"I have a mouth," she blurted, shouldering past him, grabbing Stefan's hand. "I can introduce myself. Bonnie Hopkins. Excuse you."

As she pulled Stefan along, the sound of a low chuckle reached her.

"Little lamb has claws," came the drawl.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the man in a hoodie, tipping his own glass to her before he took a sip from his drink, and turned his gaze away in dismissal once more.

A/N:

Hi guys. So the Kaleidoscope one-shot...this is it. Grew too long. TBH, I got carried away with Klonnie/Bonkai. No plans to make this one last very long (I always say that and never fail to be wrong). Also, I did a thing with a cover because it's Saturday night, I'm flu-ey, phlegmy, and it was more fun than watching murder documentaries the hubby keeps putting on.