How Did Elijah Mikaelson Become An Original Vampire?

I still get a little knot in my chest thinking about how Elijah's story wrapped up in 'The Originals'. For me it wasn't just a plot point — it was a culmination of everything he'd stood for: honor, restraint, loyalty. In the series finale, titled 'When the Levee Breaks', Elijah dies in New Orleans. The moment is set in and around the Mikaelson family's territory in the city he spent so many hard, messy years trying to protect. It's the sort of end that fits the character: not a battle of ego, but a deliberate choice to put family and the city before himself. Watching it, I kept picturing all the quieter scenes of Elijah — the man in a suit standing in a doorway, the brother pulling someone back from a line he didn't think they should cross. The finale leans into that image. He sacrifices himself during the chaotic final confrontation that threatens everyone he loves. It feels right that his last act is service to others rather than a flashy, self-centered exit. If you follow the show from his early appearances in 'The Vampire Diaries' through to 'The Originals', you see how the writers made his moral code the engine of his decisions, and his death echoes that fidelity. I know some folks wanted a more triumphant send-off or a longer epilogue, but I kind of like that it’s quiet and true to him. It leaves room for memory — the way Rebekah, Klaus, and others react afterward, the way New Orleans keeps going. If you’re revisiting the series, watch Elijah’s last scenes after you’ve sat with his earlier conversations about duty and choice; it makes the final moments land harder. For me, it’s one of those TV deaths that stings because it’s earned, not just dramatic, and it keeps me thinking about family dynamics in the show long after the credits roll.

There's a particular kind of hush that comes over a scene when Elijah Mikaelson walks in — like someone flipped the world into sepia and added classical music. For me, his best moments are all about contrasts: his almost theatrical politeness paired with that cold, efficient violence when family or honor is threatened. The first time he shows up in 'The Vampire Diaries' (that graceful, composed entrance where you instantly realize he's not to be trifled with) is the slow-burn kind of scene I adore. He speaks like a diplomat, moves like a predator, and you can feel the centuries in every measured line. Those early reveal scenes — when the Originals' history and rules are being laid down — capture his essence: noble, haunted, and quietly terrifying. I always replay those lines in my head when I'm in a mood for gothic atmosphere. Then there are the scenes in 'The Originals' where his restraint cracks for family. The moments when he makes impossible choices to protect Rebekah, Klaus, or baby Hope show his moral spine — he will lie, manipulate, and kill, but he does it with a code. One of my favorites is when he steps into negotiations or fights with that calm that masks his rage; he’s often the one who restores order after Klaus storms in. Scenes where he chooses to sacrifice his happiness or peace — giving up love, stepping into exile, or taking blows meant for others — hit me harder because you see how heavy the history is for him. He’s the embodiment of “old money” with old grief, and those scenes where he pours that grief into action are quietly devastating. I also adore his quieter, human moments. The ones where he shares a cigarette with someone, offers a proper toast, or watches over Hope in a way that says more than any speech. Those little domestic moments — cooking, dressing, making sure the family is intact for one more night — are as powerful as any fight. And when the show pairs him with morally complex partners like Hayley or Marcel, you see different colors of him: protector, diplomat, wounded brother, reluctant lover. If you want the Elijah who stays with you after the episode ends, look for the scenes where politeness is weaponized into loyalty; where sacrifice is both tragic and noble; and where he stands still long enough for the camera to read every century of his soul. Those are the ones that make me rewatch the whole messy Mikaelson saga on quiet nights.

I still get a little choked up thinking about how their relationship grows, because it's not the usual romance-or-rivalry story that a lot of genre shows fall into. Elijah Mikaelson starts out as the cool, composed Original—old-world manners, deadly instincts—and Hayley Marshall is a fierce, no-nonsense werewolf who’s suddenly carrying the most consequential baby in supernatural history. At first they’re allies of convenience: Hayley needs protection for herself and her unborn child, and Elijah needs stability and an ally who understands the stakes that come with the Mikaelson name. Over time, though, their dynamic softens into something more layered. For me, what stands out is the shift from pragmatism to genuine care. Elijah consistently treats Hayley with a kind of respectful deference you don’t see him give everyone; he’s protective in a way that feels personal, not just familial obligation. He recognizes her strength and the sacrifices she makes. Hayley, for her part, respects Elijah’s honor code even if she doesn’t always trust the family drama. They clash around loyalties and the Mikaelson tendency to prioritize blood ties, but they also learn to trust each other in crisis. Beyond the plot, I love how their relationship reframes both characters: Hayley becomes more than a plot device as mother to Hope, and Elijah’s softer edges show through when he’s around her and the baby. It’s not a textbook romance—more like two warriors building a fragile alliance that becomes familial, protective, and quietly affectionate. Watching them felt like eavesdropping on a careful, slow-burning friendship that sometimes flirts with deeper feelings but ultimately centers on love for the child and mutual respect.

Elijah Mikaelson is one of those characters who makes you want to rewatch every scene just to see how quietly brutal he can be. I get a kick out of how he blends aristocratic calm with absolute predator instincts. At his core, Elijah’s power set is classic Original vampire stuff turned up to eleven: immense strength, superhuman speed, heightened senses, rapid regeneration, and practical immortality. He can take hits that would kill lesser vampires, shrug off gunshots and stabbings faster than most people can process, and close the distance to an enemy before they realize he’s moved. Those basic traits let him physically dominate nearly anyone who stands in his way. But the toolkit that truly defines Elijah is the cerebral side of his power. Compulsion — the vampire ability to bend memories and perceptions — is a signature he uses with surgical precision. He isn’t the noisy, flashy sort that throws around mind control for drama; he uses it to erase threats, cover tracks, and manipulate key players so conflicts never even reach a blade. He pairs that with extremely refined combat skills: Elijah often fights with knives and firearms when necessary, but his preferred method is close, personal, and efficient. Add in his ability to walk in daylight (thanks to the daylight ring trope from 'The Vampire Diaries' and related artifacts), cunning negotiation, and the weight of being an Original — meaning his blood and presence alter the dynamics around witches, hybrids, and lesser vampires — and you’ve got someone who can win before a fight becomes a fight. Beyond supernatural abilities, Elijah’s greatest weapon is temperament. He leverages family obligation, honor, and emotional manipulation just as effectively as any spell. He knows exactly when to offer mercy to build debt and when to make an example of someone to deter worse threats. When witches or hunters try esoteric tools, Elijah adapts by forming alliances with powerful players, exploiting loopholes, or neutralizing the magical advantage through strategy rather than brute force. Watching him in 'The Originals' or his earlier appearances in 'The Vampire Diaries' feels like watching a chess player who can also move the board — elegant, patient, and devastating when necessary. If you like scenes where brains and brawn are married perfectly, Elijah is the kind of character whose victories make you clap and his losses make you sit forward and worry.

Man, talking about Elijah's redemption arc always gets me a little sentimental — he's the sort of character who quietly eats his feelings and then does something noble at 2 a.m. while everyone else sleeps. If you want the emotional spine of his redemption, the best way to watch it is as a thread that runs from his late appearances in 'The Vampire Diaries' into almost every major beat of 'The Originals'. Start with the episodes that introduce the Originals in 'The Vampire Diaries' late in Season 2 and the crossover episodes in Season 3 where Elijah's code and restraint are first contrasted against Klaus's chaos. Those episodes don't just show the family; they set up Elijah's baseline: honor, restraint, and guilt. From there, the meat of his redemption is across 'The Originals' through Seasons 1–5. The pilot of 'The Originals' (S1E01) gives you the immediate moral stakes — Elijah protecting the family while trying to follow a stricter personal code. Pay attention to the early and mid-season episodes where he negotiates with Marcel and the city (several pivotal moments through S1 and S2) because those are where he repeatedly chooses restraint and loyalty over easier brutality. Big turning points are in the season finales and premieres — the show uses those episodes to force Elijah into impossible choices (sacrifices, bargains, and protecting Hope indirectly) and that's where the redemption feeling really accrues. In later seasons (S3–S5), you see him question his methods, seek forgiveness, and ultimately make the kind of final choices that feel like earning a moral reset. The series finale episodes that close the family story give the emotional payoff: it's not a clean redemption, but a weathered, earned one. If you want a tighter watchlist: focus on the Originals-introduction block in late 'The Vampire Diaries', the 'The Originals' pilot, the mid- and end-season episodes of S1 and S2 where Elijah negotiates peace vs. war, and then the big confrontation/closure episodes in S3–S5 (especially the final season beats). Watching those in sequence shows how his quiet honor softens him, then hardens again into sacrifice. My couch-viewing tip: sip something warm and let the quieter scenes (the ones with Elijah in suits, talking softly) breathe — that's where the redemption lives.

I get excited every time someone asks about Elijah Mikaelson merch — he’s such a classy character, and it shows in the kinds of gear people make for him. If you want officially licensed stuff, your best bets are the big, reputable retailers: the CW shop often carries 'The Originals' and 'The Vampire Diaries' items, and sites like Hot Topic, BoxLunch, and Fanatics will sometimes stock tees, hoodies, and accessories tied to the shows. Entertainment Earth and Merchoid are also good places to check for higher-quality or limited-edition items. For fan-made or indie pieces, Etsy, Redbubble, Society6, and TeePublic are goldmines. I’ve bought enamel pins and art prints of Elijah from small Etsy shops — the variety is awesome, and artists will often customize prints or sizes for you. If you’re hunting for collectibles like pops or figures, check Funko’s official store, Entertainment Earth, and eBay for rare listings, but be cautious about authenticity. Displate is my go-to for metal posters if you want a slick Elijah portrait, and for cosplay pieces — rings, pocket watches, tailored coats — Etsy and specialty cosplay stores tend to have the best craftsmanship. A few practical tips: always read seller reviews and look closely at photos (zoom in on seams, print edges, and packaging if possible). Search variations like 'Elijah Mikaelson shirt', 'Elijah Mikaelson poster', or 'Mikaelson ring' to catch more listings. Watch international shipping costs and return policies — I’ve been burned by an overseas seller with a strict no-returns policy once! Lastly, join fandom groups on Facebook or Reddit; people often trade, sell, or post code drops and limited-run merch there, which is how I snagged a signed print last year.

Oh wow, Elijah Mikaelson is played by Daniel Gillies — and honestly, his performance is one of those things that sticks with you long after you finish binging. I first noticed him when I watched a few episodes back-to-back on a gloomy weekend; his presence just slices through the chaos of vampire politics with this calm, old-soul dignity. In both 'The Vampire Diaries' and 'The Originals', he’s the archetypal honorable monster: impeccably dressed, devastatingly controlled, and quietly devastating when he lets his guard down. That mixture of restraint and heat is why so many scenes between him and Joseph Morgan’s Klaus feel electric rather than just dramatic. What I love about Gillies’ take on Elijah is how layered he makes the character. At the surface Elijah is the gentleman, the brother trying to hold the family together, but Gillies gives you little micro-moments — a tightened jaw, a half-smile, a lingering look — that hint at the centuries of trauma and tough choices underneath. Outside the Mikaelson saga, he’s done other solid work (I always recommend checking out his role in 'Saving Hope' if you want something less supernatural and more grounded), and that crossover into different genres shows he’s not a one-note performer. He’s also off-screen quietly supportive of his fellow castmates in interviews and panels, which makes following his career feel very rewarding. If you’re revisiting the shows, pay attention to Elijah’s quieter scenes: the ones where the music drops and it’s just his face. For me, those moments keep dragging me back; they remind me why the character became a favorite in a crowded cast. It’s the kind of performance that makes me rewatch not because of plot twists but to see how subtle acting choices build a lifetime of history in just a few minutes of TV.

By the time I got around to rewatching 'The Originals' for the third time, the way Elijah and Klaus finally settled things felt less like a tidy finish and more like the realistic, messy truce you get with family in real life. Their feud wasn't a single fight or a big speech — it was a thousand small reckonings stretched over decades: betrayals born from fear, attempts at control, and repeated choices to put one another last or first depending on the moment. The roots go way back to Esther's spell, Mikael's hatred, and Klaus's monstrous origin as a hybrid; those early betrayals poisoned trust and set brother against brother. Elijah spent most of the series trying to hold the family together by being the moral anchor, and Klaus swung between cruelty and rare, heartbreaking vulnerability. What makes their resolution satisfying to me is that it isn't instant forgiveness; it's earned. Klaus starts making deliberate choices that privilege his daughter's future over his own thirst for dominance — choices that show up in small mercies and in his willingness to bear consequences. Elijah, for his part, stops trying to fix Klaus by sheer will and starts accepting him as he is, while still holding him accountable. Their final reconciliation feels powered by shared suffering and a mutual understanding that the family’s survival (Thanks, Hope) matters more than old grudges. The emotional apex is not some courtroom confession but a handful of honest conversations, a few sacrifices, and those quieter scenes where they actually listen to each other. There's a lot of forgiveness, but it's also tempered by grief for what can't be undone. If you like the theme of redemption threaded through supernatural melodrama, rewatch the later seasons of 'The Vampire Diaries' alongside 'The Originals' — the back-and-forth flashbacks do a beautiful job of showing how choices echo through time. Personally, I love the way the writers let reconciliation be slow and earned: it makes the moments when they do reach peace feel genuine rather than cheap. For me, the takeaway is that family in that world is both a curse and a salvation, and their truce is messy, human, and oddly comforting.