Aurora stood in the dimly lit parlor, her chest rising and falling with shallow, angry breaths. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, as though she were physically holding herself together. Jacob stood opposite her, his back to the fireplace, its flames casting a flickering glow across his sharp features. The tension between them was palpable, an electric charge that made the air thick and suffocating.
"You're still doing Klaus's bidding," Aurora accused, her voice low but trembling with anger. Her eyes, usually so composed, were stormy, filled with both frustration and a deep, unspoken pain. "After everything he's done to us—after what he did to our family."
Jacob's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His shoulders were tense, his stance rigid as if bracing for a blow. "I'm doing what I have to," he said evenly, though there was a crack in his voice, a note of desperation he couldn't quite suppress.
Aurora scoffed, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. "What you have to?" she repeated, her tone biting. She took a step closer, her movements sharp, like a blade slicing through the air. "Jacob, he's using you. Just like he's used everyone else. You think you're different? You think he'll keep his word?"
Jacob's eyes flashed, and he took a step forward, his towering presence suddenly dominating the space. "You think I don't know that?" he snapped, his voice rising with a rare burst of emotion. "You think I don't know exactly who Klaus is? What he's capable of?"
Aurora flinched slightly at his intensity, but her resolve didn't waver. "Then why are you still working for him?" she demanded, her voice breaking on the last word. Her hands dropped to her sides, clenching into fists as she glared up at him, her pain raw and unfiltered. "Why are you still letting him control you?"
Jacob looked away, his jaw clenching tightly as he stared into the fire. The flickering light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the hard set of his features and the tension in his neck. "Because it's the only way to get her back," he said finally, his voice low and strained, as though the words were being dragged out of him.
Aurora's breath hitched, her expression shifting from anger to something softer, more vulnerable. "Jacob," she whispered, her tone almost pleading. "Klaus won't do anything to her. She's his sister."
Jacob turned back to her sharply, his eyes blazing. "But she's still daggered," he said, his voice filled with bitter frustration. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate but heavy, as though he were carrying an unbearable weight. "How is that any better than being dead, Aurora? How is that better?"
Aurora shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. She pressed her lips together, her fingers trembling as she clenched the fabric of her dress. "I know," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "I know it's not better. But that's why Father is doing everything he can to get her back. He's been searching for centuries, Jacob. He won't stop until she's free."
Jacob's expression hardened, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. "And how's that going, huh?" he shot back, his tone sharp and cutting. "How many more centuries are we supposed to wait? How many more years are we supposed to watch Klaus parade around with our family locked away like trophies?"
Aurora's shoulders sagged, her composure cracking further. She reached out as if to touch Jacob, but her hand hesitated, hovering just inches away before she let it fall. "Father isn't doing this alone," she said softly, her voice trembling. "Elijah is helping him. You know how much he cares about her. He won't let Klaus keep her forever."
Jacob laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and devoid of humor. "Elijah?" he said, shaking his head as he paced a few steps away. He ran a hand through his hair, his movements restless and agitated. "Elijah's just as much a part of this mess as Klaus is. Always cleaning up after him, always making excuses."
Aurora's eyes flashed with anger, and she stepped forward, her voice rising. "That's not fair, Jacob," she said fiercely. "You know Elijah is trying to make things right. He's always been the one holding this family together."
Jacob turned to face her, his expression twisted with pain and frustration. "And how's that worked out so far?" he demanded, his voice raw. "Because last I checked, our mother's still in a coffin, daggered and forgotten, while Klaus does whatever the hell he wants."
Aurora stared at him, her chest heaving as she struggled to find the right words. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, a single tear slipped down her cheek, glistening in the firelight.
Jacob's expression softened for a moment, his anger giving way to regret. He took a hesitant step toward her, his hands unclenching as he reached out. "Aurora," he said quietly, his voice filled with an ache that mirrored her own. "I'm doing this for her. For all of us. I don't want to, but I don't see another way."
Aurora shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "There has to be another way," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, Jacob. Don't let him turn you into something you're not."
Jacob hesitated, his hand hovering just above her shoulder before he finally let it drop. His gaze fell to the floor, his expression conflicted. "I don't have a choice," he said softly, his voice barely audible.
Aurora closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a sob. The silence between them was heavy, filled with all the things they couldn't say. Finally, Jacob turned away, his movements slow and deliberate, as though each step was a struggle.
As he reached the door, Aurora's voice broke through the quiet, filled with both desperation and resolve. "You do have a choice," she said, her words firm despite the tears streaming down her face. "Don't let Klaus take that from you."
Jacob paused, his hand resting on the doorframe. For a moment, he stood perfectly still, his head bowed as if her words had struck a chord deep within him. But he didn't look back. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out into the night, leaving Aurora alone in the flickering glow of the fire.