Okay, because this is the anniversary of Klaroline (23/1), I will publish my new story to honour Caroline Forbes and Niklaus Mikaelson. I am very mad at Julie Plec and I publish this to the old Niklaus and Caroline as, in my opinion, JP has made Klaus not very "Klaus-ly" in The Originals with all the humanity moments with Camille O´Connell, Hope, and even Genevieve (I don´t know how her name is spelled, but I gave it a try). I don´t know everything about the Originals, but if you see anything that´s incorrect, please tell me so I can fix it as fast as I can. Please review and tell me if I should continue with story, and why I should. Thank you beforehand for reading this story.
Niklaus Mikaelson.
I sat down, a drink already placing itself in front of me. I gave a smirk to the lovely bartender. Ahh, the lovely Camille. She had the innocence of a child, but yet she held a sadness. Even though I fancied her, I couldn´t help but resent her just a little bit for the same reason I fancied her. She was too familiar. The blond soft curls, the blue eyes, the pale skin.. She looked like her. I escaped the bloody town where my savior but tormentor lived, only to see a mere shadow self of her in the new city I was King in. I immediately thought of Marcel, which caused my annoyance and anger grow. Marcel did not have the right of being related to the word King. He did not have the right of owning what was mine. He did not have the right of having loyalty to him on a platter. He did not deserve it. I built this town, and I owned it. It was mine. I was King.
I swallowed down a gulp of my whiskey and felt it burn my throat as it flowed. It did nothing to sooth my anger, nor did it distract me from my thought, but it did help my thoughts of my Queen to go away. At least for a little bit. My Queen. I sighed. She was indeed a Queen. So firece, controlling and fiesty, but yet so innocent, calm and rationel. Well for the most part. She wanted perfection - a perfect quality of a Queen. She and I would rule New Orleans when she came, she would come sometime, and we would be King and Queen. Equals with no end. We would have eternity togheter. I would get everything that Marcel had, but so much more. I would have a Queen. Marcel did not have a Queen, though he had his eyes on young Camille. That would really not work. Why?
A, she was human. She was weak, defenceless and so disgustingly humanistic and foolish. She thought she could beast me, Klaus Mikaelson, the hybrid. Plain and simple. B, she was too innocent and gentle for this. A Queen should be able to stand up for her people, and Camille would not be able to go out with the punishments. She would be grieving in guilt. My Queen, on the other hand, was strong. She was innocent, true, but she was strong. She had survived werewolves bites, twice, and she had killed twelve witches to save a friend of hers without even so much flinching. My Queen was strong and could handle things. Camille could not.
"Now, If I didn´t know better, I´d think you sat here sulking." Marcel slumped down beside me, telling Camille hello. He easily flirted, though Camille was everything but amused. I smirked as she plainly ignored his flirting. But my smirk didn´t last long. She reminded me of her too much. My Queen was defiant in every way, and Camille also owned that quality. I took another gulp.
Marcel continued, "..but then I thought; You´re Niklaus Mikaelson goddamit. Niklaus Mikaelson does not sulk."
"But he do kill people that he find annoying, mate." I muttered. My annoyence grew as I heard him laugh.
"True, true. You know, I have to go sort some buisness out. You following, man?"
He was up to something. He wanted me to follow him. It was a trap. I couldn´t resist smirking, knowing he would never be able to beat me, how good he would ever grow.
"Of course. May I ask what this buisness of yours is about?"
His smile didn´t falter, it just grew. "Oh you know, some vampires passing through without following the rules. The usual. Though they are pretty set on not telling why they are in New Orleans in the first place. Have to get it out of them somehow, and I thought about you old friend." Friend my arsle. Quite the bad excuse also.
"Well then, shall we?" I took the last of my drink down in one big gulp.
You´ll see who this is... (a hint: a brittish, former augustine vampire)
Her scream echoed around the room, bumping from one stone wall to another, tearing both my ears and my heart apart. Her face was twisted in pain as she told them to burn in hell, pleading me to help her. She screamed my name over and over but yet, she knew I could never help her. I knew it as well. But of course, that didn´t stop me from trying. I ripped at the chains, feeling the pain grip in my bones as the nailes flew into my flesh. But I didn´t stop. She was begging now. I knew what was going to happen next. They would ask her questions, she would say no and they would torture her a little more, despite getting no information. They would just do it to have a little spite out of it. They asked, once again, the same question and she said she didn´t know as the tears flew down her cheeks - that were pale from the blood loss. A slap was heard, but she couldn´t turn her head as the nails would tear into her throat if she just moved an inch.
I roared. "Let her go! She doesn´t know anything!" He slapped her again. Blood flew from her mouth. He looked at me, gloating at me.
"Shut. Up." He said the words slowly, as if I was dumb.
"Let. Her. Go."
"You wanna take her place, Ken? Wanna take barbie´s place?" He smirked, nodding at her. I growled.
"She doesn´t know anything, and neither does I. So let us go."
"I can believe that you don´t know anything, but she does. She knows how they work, and she know their weaknesses. She can go when she has told us what we want, but for you is the door always open. You can run along, but then you leave her here, right? I take it that you´re loyal to her, as she is to you. So you won´t leave. That´s kind of sad my friend. A man that´s whipped is really patethic, but also so vulnarable. That´s why we need her. You understand that, right friend?"
I was began to snarl at him, but a noise interrupted me. Both my and his head turned to the sound.
"I don´t like the blue." She muttered. What did the color blue have to do with -"You can not be my date. My mother is gonna be there and..." -..this? I didn´t hear what she muttered after the sentence but I saw that her eyes was long gone from here. Was she hallucinating? Was she breaking? I did once. I broke and hallucinated about the people who hurt me the most. I just really hoped she was crazy, not broken. Crazy was better. I could handle crazy. Crazy was good.
"You should come to the founders party with me... You gotta read the first books first, It don´t make sense if you don´t... How can you not sparkle?" Please please be crazy.
He walked closer to her, and I yelled out to him to stop but he ignored me. He caressed her cheek, she shuddered. "Seems like we finally broke you sweetheart."
I yelled her name to catch her attention, but she was in her own world. "Yeah, but you go in the sun.. Are these bites gonna turn me into a vampire?" Wait what? "You can be very sweet when you wanna be... Are you gonna kill me?"
He chuckled. "This is interesting. I wonder..." He took her face in his hands, as he closed his eyes in concentration. No, no! I knew what he was doing. He was in her brain. I ripped at the chains. I screamed. I tried to do eveything I could to get to her. I failed.
One month ago.
"Let me get this straight goldlocks. You don´t want to go to New Orleans - a town full of very powerful witches that could help you get your witchy little friend and your home back - just because you´re afraid to meet your fiancé?"
I asked in disblief and just as I expected, she sighed in irritation. "He is not my fiancé. But that´s not why I don´t want to go. Yes, I don´t want to see his almighty hybrid ass ever again but that´s not - "
"Something tells me that you´ve seen his almighty hybrid ass before." She glared at me as her blush colored her face. I smirked. She took a deep breath to cool down.
"Let me finish goddamit - "
"So you have seen his ass? You´re not exactly denying it."
"Stop it, you´re being stupid."
"Still not denying it, but continue on."
"Thank you. Why I don´t want to go is because from what Rebekah -"
"The original sister?" I interrupted. She glared at me and I noticed her hands curl into tiny fists. Gosh she had small hands. They looked like a baby´s hand. So gentle, small and delicate. Like she hadn´t done anything in her life, just lived in luxery. She noticed my staring.
"What are you looking at? Look at the road! God you´re a creep. We could have crashed because your staring. Not because we would have died or anything. What were you staring at anyway? Wait, no, don´t you dare answer. You don´t get to distract me. Just shut up so I can finish. Where was I?.. Yes, from what Rebekah told Matt, there´s a war going on in New Orleans. Werewolves, vampires and witches are going on a murder spree, and I would really not want to be in a war zone."
She was kind of adorable when she blabbered. And ignorant. She was in her own bubble, in her own world. Maybe that was why the original liked her.
I stared at her, not saying anything. She didn´t last five minutes.
"Well?" She asked. I smirked.
"I think that´s just an excuse for not having the - what do you say nowaday? Balls? - to face the man you humped on the floor like a dog. Which is ironic, because, you know, he´s a werewolf. A dog. Do you get my joke, gorgeous?" I chuckled. I was one hilarious bastard. I pulled over from the road, and stared at her. She rolled her eyes at me.
"Yes, Enzo. I do. Very original of you." Picking up on her own personal joke made both me and her laugh. It was refreshing. Her laugh. I didn´t get to laugh much when I was in the cell, and I missed the sound of a careless laughter. Her laugh was bubbly, spirited and careless. But it stopped aburtly.
"How do you know that Klaus and I´ve been.. intimate?" Intimate? Really? Was that how they named it these days? Before that goddamn cell, we called it sex, but also banging and fucking, and bloody hell we even called it 'making love'. Guess they had changed the name of having sex to being intimate. If Damon had helped me getting out of that bloody cage I would have known this already. I immediately changed my way of thinking. I could not let that anger feed me until I couldn´t resist but gloat at his death.
"Damon is - well, was - spilling more beans than an old lady. Too bad he´s gone now, but at least he didn´t go before he spilled all the details gorgeous. But it´s all good, because we´re going to New Orleans to bring him back." I said cheering. "Oh and your witchy friend."
I could feel her stare burning on my cheek. "Enzo, I really don´t want to go to New Orleans."
I just smirked. Well that´s too bad, I thought as I reached over and took a hold of her neck. Her hair felt like silk between my fingers, and I could see the confusion in her eyes, but I noticed when she realized what I would do, but it was too late. He neck snapped and I laid her gently against the seat, closing her eyes. Wouldn´t want a human officer to pull me over for having a dead dead-person in my car... Well Caroline´s car.
"I would walk five houndred miles..." I mumbled as I began to drive once again, but with the direction of New Orleans. Damn Caroline for making that song stick to my head.
I hope you enjoyed it, and please tell me what you think. Do you think that it should be Marcel that has Enzo and Caroline hostage? Or maybe some witches? Should it be werewolves? Or maybe witches, Marcel and Rebekah - maybe just Rebekah? Please tell me what you think.
I don´t think I will be able to update alot, because 1, I want this story to be good, not "alright", so I will rewrite the chapters to make sure that this story is good. 2, I don´t have much time for writing as this semester in school is really stressing. 3, I have other stories that I want to update as well. But of course I will try to write as much as I can! Hope everyone have a good day!