New Orleans. 1916

"Where's Marcel?"

Klaus had been dreading this exchange all evening long. Rebekah had went out shopping with a few of her current girlfriends. If you could call them friends. She often got bored with the circles she joined and moved on to the next. He knew it was more of a distraction than anything else. Perusing the shops and compelling friends were just a smoke screen to hide her intense emotions for Marcel. Emotions that she could not keep hidden if she remained at home, in such close quarters with both Marcel and himself.

He raised his glass of scotch to his lips and kept his eyes fixed on the window in front of his chair.

"He's not here."

"Well when will he be back?" she moved closer to him, her arms firmly crossed "I need to ask him to..."

"He's gone, Rebekah," he interrupted her, sliding his glass onto a nearby table, standing and moving closer to the window.

"Gone?" she spat, "What do you mean?"

"He marched out of this house hours ago dressed in full uniform," he pointed toward the door.

"What?" Rebekah slid into the seat that he had vacated and he could hear the breath rush out of her lungs.

"Marcellus has enlisted," he spun around to face her "He leaves for Europe tonight."

"No," she gasped, shaking her head in disbelief.

She finally raised her eyes up to his and a fire ignited in them.

"Why didn't you stop him?!" she shouted, standing to her feet again "How could you let him out of this house?"

"I tried! There was no dissuading him...no reasoning with..."

Rebekah was growing angrier, she began to pace back and forth, fists clinching by her sides as the beads on her dress swished back and forth as she walked.

"He belongs here, Nik!" then, realization set in on her features, "This is because of you isn't it? Because you won't let him be with me..."

"We are not going to discuss it, Rebekah!" he interrupted her.

"Why? Because then you would have to admit that this is all your fault? That Marcel is going halfway around the world to fight a war that is not his to fight all because of you and your ridiculous..."

"Enough!" he shouted, swinging his arm around and knocking a row of liquor bottles off a cart and smashing them all over the hardwood.

She flinched when the liquor began to puddle around her shoes.

"He hasn't left yet," she immediately began to reason "I can get to the station and stop him..."

"Let him go, sister," Elijah walked into the room, no doubt he had been eavesdropping during their entire conversation "You are not to leave this house, is that understood?"

She glanced between her two brothers, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She knew even if she tracked him down, swore to leave everything behind for him, he would still go. He was, after all, a man. He was determined to prove a point. She wiped the corner of one of her eyes with her gloved fingertip and turned her gaze back to Elijah.

"Understood," she finally managed to speak, walking toward the door then turning back with disdain and anger still visible on her face "Perhaps I will knit him some socks."

Her remark was not lost on Elijah, who tried his best to hide a smile at his sister's sarcasm.

"She hates me now more than ever," Klaus spoke flatly to his brother as he sank back into his chair "And Marcellus is just as furious."

"You are stubborn, Niklaus," Elijah began to gather up the broken glass "But worse than that you are being a fool. Marcellus may have went off to this monstrosity of a war to defy you...but our sister will be here every day. A constant reminder of your selfish need for control."

"I have to protect this family," Klaus insisted, grabbing his glass which had managed to survive his brazen attack of the liquor.

"Marcellus and Rebekah need no protection from one another," Elijah insisted, standing with his arms full of shattered bottles "Perhaps it is you who needs protecting."

"From what?" Klaus scoffed, finishing the last of his drink.

"From heartbreak," Elijah answered flatly "You and I both know our sister holds a grudge just as deeply as you. You will be lucky to ever garner her forgiveness."

"She will move on...In time," Klaus stood and kicked the remainder of the glass on the floor "She always does. Our sister is nothing less than a queen of this city. She will have hundreds of suitors."

"None of which will be good enough," Elijah scowled.

Klaus smiled smugly at him and then moved toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Elijah trying to clean up the mess.

"Leave it, brother. The help can clean it up."