Pairing: Klaus/Rebekah (M/f) hand
*Thank you to input from readers. Special thanks to Jazmine F. ( )
And, when the rain came down on the cabin floor,
The squatter only fiddled all the more.
Why don't you mend your roof, said the traveler bold.
How can I mend my cabin when the rain is wet and cold?
-from The Arkansas Traveler (1847)
Mikaelson Estate
Mystic Falls, Virginia
September 1855
Klaus' Study
Klaus read Rebekah's note again with an even face. She was slumped back in one of the guest chair as he sat behind his large desk.
"It says here that you had a quarrel with Kol and that you hurled a pen at him? Is this true?" Klaus said stiffly.
"Yes, Brother," Rebekah replied, glancing around at his framed paintings. One was of a field of flowers on a sunny day, if only Rebekah could be there now, she thought.
"Hayley said she hopes you and Kol made up. Did you do so?" Klaus asked, tossing the note on the desk.
"No, the boys were teaching Solomon an amusing song they heard on the way home. I did not have the chance," Rebekah answered, now staring at a sketch of a ship on the high seas. "I like that drawing. Is it charcoal?"
"Do not attempt to change the subject, young lady!" Klaus corrected, getting more agitated.
"I am nearly as old as you, hardly young," Rebekah snapped. "Where is Freya?"
"Your sister is with Halina and Ilayda working on some things," Klaus said. "I will take care of this."
"Of course you will," Rebekah said dryly. "Where is Elijah?"
"He is at the workshop with Dragomir. It seems Sammy and him are not well working together at the shop. Tom came over to complain about the younger boy. Rebekah, I have had a very full day and disciplining you is the last thing I wanted to do," Klaus noted, folding his hands. "I spoke to Marcellus again today about what happened yesterday. Tis not that I wish either of you to be unhappy, but we need the entire family focused on our survival right now."
Rebekah sneered, "Survival, of course. I am trying to survive the school day and tis not as simple as you may think. What tis going on here at home, though, Niklaus? Am I even to know that?"
Klaus stood up. "Nay, not now. We are making plans and we shall discuss it when they are finalized. I will say that Father seems to be off in the Spanish East Indies, according to Freya's spell...Or we have another living relative we were not aware of."
"I do not even know where that is, in truth," Rebekah admitted.
"See? That tis why you need school. Stand up. I have no further wish to admonish you so tell me why I am having to thrash you," Klaus said, rolling up his shirt sleeves. It was stuffy and humid in the study, even with the windows open. A human would have been sweating freely.
"I lost my temper and threw something at Kol because he was chatting to Damon about how I got punished last night!" Rebekah said fiercely.
Klaus paused, "Was he mocking you openly?"
"Nay, he was snickering to Damon, but he knows he can hear him. Damon was blameless, in truth. I threw that pen hoping to embed it in his foolish leg," Rebekah confessed. "I did not realize that the werewolf would see it. There is not much she misses in that school house. She has a strong arm, I will tell you that. I do not see why I even must have this 'discussion' with you!"
Klaus cleared his throat, "So you two have done this before?"
Rebekah's mouth opened at the realization that she had just confessed to a pattern of misbehavior at school.
With her silence, Klaus stated, "There is my answer. Mayhaps Kol needs a reminder of how to behave in public, too."
Rebekah stood up quickly, saying, "No, Nik. It was my fault...I was angry before, do not thrash him, too. I will make my amends with him. Perhaps I was upset about Marcel? I have not spoken to him since the barn."
Klaus nodded, "So then, he did not visit you last night? It may be because he got a good hiding and then went out to smoke. Elijah talked to him for a long while. He is my son, you are my sister. I want you to be content here..."
"Just not together," Rebekah finished dimly. "You may control this estate and our family, but you cannot govern our hearts. Shall we get on with it? I have not the fortitude to keep going on and on in circles about this. I know your mind."
Klaus wished that he was ready to give them his blessing, but now was not the time. He thought about them attempting to run off in the night...Was that not what lovers did? Someday he would give them what they wanted, but not right now.
Klaus moved the one chair back to give himself some space. He sat and guided Rebekah over his lap. Her hands went to the floor and he adjusted her so her feet were barely touching the ground. He flipped most of her petticoats and skirt up, leaving her slip in place for her modesty.
Crack!
Klaus hand fell heavily, but it was nothing like the hairbrush Freya wielded the eve before. Crack! Crack! Crack!
Klaus smacked down dutifully, but Rebekah could tell his heart twas not in it. Tears of frustration and anger fell on the fine, silk carpet. The pain was minimal, but built slightly.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
After a full minute of slaps, Rebekah squirmed and crossed her ankles to remain still. If it was not for the fact that Rebekah had not fed property, she would not have felt much to any of the sting.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
After another moments, she kicked a bit and shifted to shake off the burn that accumulated.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Rebekah sniffed, still not crying openly. Then, Klaus stopped.
"I love you, Little Sister," Klaus said. "Your pain is mine, and yet I cannot...You may rise."
Rebekah wiped away the few tears on her face and let her skirts fall.
"I am sorry," Klaus said softly, looking miserable.
"Nik, you just spanked me. I should not needs comfort you," Rebekah chided wryly.
Klaus laughed and stood and pulled her into an embrace.
"Please, do not be cross with me. Go speak to Marcel and then Kol," Klaus suggested. "You will feel better."
Rebekah's backside was already feeling fine.
"Elijah is going to swat my backside again at bedtime, is he not?" Rebekah inquired.
"You know how seriously he feels about your school work. I will tell him I dealt with your behavior," Klaus said. "Here, show him the note now and perhaps he will feel merciful to see his beloved's neat hand. Maybe she adorned it with a perfumed kiss?"
"Miss Hayley does have exquisite penmanship, but I do not wish to think of the time of them touching lips," Rebekah confirmed. "Thank you for...I shall not thank you for the thrashing, but you know I can never be angry at you either for long."
Niklaus kissed her on the head. "Go on, I promised the boys I would speak to someone about making them some kind of ball. If only they were as excited about their lessons or chores as they are about sport."
"Ah yes, the football," Rebekah said, rolling her eyes. "George Lockwood brought one to school today. Goodbye, Nik."
"And Rebekah?" Klaus said quietly. "Make sure you feed. You are looking a tad peaked. You must take care of yourself."
"I will, Nik," Rebekah promised sweetly.
They left the study and parted, Klaus felt a bit better. Klaus did not see Rebekah's face harden as she walked away.
Carpenter's Workshop
Elijah smiled as he watched Tom work in the 30 by 19 foot woodshop. It smelled of cedar and woodsmoke. There was a little fire pit on the floor where they dried the boards before construction. Elijah ran his hands over some of the stored planks. There would be enough here to build on to the main house, if needed.
Tom and his apprentices slept here, making it their living quarters. The saw pit, where the timber was made into planks was outside. Elijah sometimes strolled by and stopped to watch the master carpenter and his men rough out the wood to create joists, sleepers, and even the finished flooring for the other buildings. Elijah found it calming, but right now, he had a problem to deal with. Tom had asked Dragomir to go to the metal shop to pick up some tools. Sammy had been sent home.
"Mr. Mikaelson, many thanks for coming by," Tom said, as he saw Elijah watching him work.
"Of course, Tom," Elijah said. "I hear you had some trouble today."
"Not much," Tom said, plainly. He was a big man, perhaps in his fifties with salt and pepper hair and a big smile. "Dragomir is a good worker, strong and able. The boy is a fine worker, too. Clever as I have ever seen, but not suited for this work. His mind wanders half the time and the other he rushes. I tole him over and over to hold his horses but he does not mind when he is at a task. He damn near cut off his hand with the saw today. Dragomir was fit to be tied . I was fixing to ask if you could find another shop for him to try. Not smithing, though."
"Nay, not smithing. You said he was quick-witted?" Elijah questioned, glancing around.
"Aye, very much so," Tom confirmed.
"I think I have an idea that may be less dangerous. With a bit of discipline, we will find a place for the youngster. Say, before I go, do you have another yardstick for me? Mine seems to have disappeared," Elijah noted. He knew Tom would not let him down. He went to find Dragomir at the metal shop and speak to him about this matter.
Guest House
Freya marked down the spell in her grimoire.
"Ilayda, you are a genius. I never thought to do the spell that way," Freya said excitedly.
Ilayda crackled, "There are many such things we needed to do when supplies were scarce. Our winters were long and harsh, not like this land. So plentiful."
Haline smiled and brought in some sweet bread they had made earlier. It was a rare luxury to have even a bit of honey in their old country, but here sugar was plentiful.
"No, no more of that lovely bread. Tis so good, but I shall not be able to eat my supper," Freya protested, holding her stomach.
"Nonsense, you are as thin as a bird," Halina laughed. "One small piece."
"If you insist," Freya said, accepting the plate. Halina's hand lingered a moment longer than necessary.
Croiá bounded in from school, she stopped when she saw Freya.
"Beggin' your pardon, Miss," Croiá said, with a slight bow.
"Croiá, slow down and eat something," Halina urged. "And tell us about your day."
They heard something slam from the upper level of the house. Croiá looked up in alarm.
Ilayda waved it off. "Ignore it. Sammy came home earlier. There was so trouble..."
Croiá winced, "Oh no, that is unfortunate. Um, can I eat in a bit? I need to fetch something from my room."
"Of course," Halina said. "I will fix you a plate."
Freya gathered up her books. "I have taken too much of your time. I am going to work on this tonight. Thank you for the yarrow. My herbal stores are getting replenished. I will see what they have in town tomorrow."
"Halina has a few things to fetch," Ilayda added lightly. "Mayhaps you two can travel together?"
"That would be nice," Freya said. "Finn and Sage said they would take me. You can join. After breakfast in the morn?"
"That sounds lovely," Halina gushed. She wrapped up a piece of the bread that Freya had not yet eaten in a clean cloth and put it in her hand. "For after your supper then."
"Thank you," Freya said.
Elijah was about to knock as she was leaving. He was using his newest yardstick as a walking stick.
"Sister, did you make any progress?" Elijah asked, twirling his stick.
"Yes, I think we did," Freya said, a little flustered. "I will tell you about it tonight. Nice stick."
"Could you toss it on my desk for me?" Elijah asked. "As you will see, it will save my hand a good deal."
Freya nodded, "Of course. Excuse me, Brother."
Freya walked off with the bread in one hand and the yard stick in the other.
Elijah stared after his sister a short moment and then tapped on the door frame.
An Hour Later
"School?" Sammy asked in disbelief. "I can barely read in English. Would I not be like a babe lost in the woods?"
Elijah shook his head, "I can teach you your letters at night. You will pick it up fast. I taught Marcellus using the Bible and the words of William Shakespeare."
"Who? I never heard of him. Does he reside here?" Sammy said.
Elijah was not sure if he was jesting or being sarcastic.
"He was an English playwright. My point is that I have instructed a youth before and I think I did a fine job," Elijah said proudly.
"Croiá is the one who writes and likes to bury her head in books. I like action. Mayhaps I lack the patience for careful labor, but cannot I not work in the stables?" Sammy asked. "My kin have been shepherds for centuries. A bit amusing, really, considering...wolves and sheep. I suppose that is why we were so poor."
Elijah smiled at the boy's comment. He really was quite clever.
"Sammy, that is something to be very proud of. Yet I am offering you a world class education. Our family needs allies that are adept with modern business practices and the law. You can still get your hands dirty in your free time. Take me up on my offer to attend school and I will pay for you to become a solicitor," Elijah said. "I was hoping Marcellus could do that, but he is busy helping to run the estate. What do you say?"
"So I have to learn my letters, go to school, and read law?" Sammy asked. "What tis in it for me?"
Sammy was twiddling his thumbs, looking arrogant. Yet Elijah felt like this boy had the fighting attitude and cleverness they needed.
"Gold. You can buy a stables, if you like, someday," Elijah said. "But you would only work for our family. It tis come to my attention that the men in town are moving towards incorporating this land. Ownership can be a form of power. Our brawn is no longer enough for us to keep ourselves safe. You and your family are under our protection now. What say you?"
"So I would become a lawyer? I am flattered by your trust in me," Sammy said, scratching his chin. "Plus, it would vex Dragomir much if I knew the law and he did not. I am in."
"Good," Elijah said, standing and patting the werewolf on the shoulder. "And now I shall give you the speech I give all of the children. We expect you to behave and represent the family well. When you have school work, it comes first..."
Sammy smiled and nodded as he thought of the look on Drag's face when he heard this. It never occurred to the teen that the whole thing was his elder brother's idea.
Meadow
After Supper
Croiá brought her notebook with her, as she and Kol walked near the lake.
"Are those your stories?" Kol smiled.
"Aye, but you cannot read them," Croiá said slowly.
"Why? Are they too frightening for me?" Kol laughed, he tossed a stone in the water.
"You Mikaelsons like throwing things," Croiá smirked.
"Aye, we do," Kol agreed."But it sometimes gets us a hiding. My sister found me and apologized, if you can believe it? Now, back to your stories...They are not the naughty kind, I imagine."
Croiá giggled and thwacked Kol on the arm lightly with her book.
"No, they just are not finished!" Croiá said with a smile. "I cannot seem to finish them...I love my characters too much."
Kol snatched the book and ran off a few steps. "Maybe I could help?"
Croiá screeched and ran off after the vampire, laughing.
A distance behind them, Elena commented, "They are having a good time."
Damon looked at her with concern, "Are you sure your ankle is fine?"
"Damon, stop! I told you, I am healed," Elena explained. "If you make one more comment, I shall toss you in the lake!"
Jeremy and Solomon ran past them and tapped Damon.
"Dam, you are it! You have to run," Jeremy hollered.
Elena watched the boys run off. She noticed Stefan lagging behind.
"Stefan, what tis wrong? Is your stomach hurting?" Elena asked with concern.
"No, I just was watching the sun go down. It's awfully pretty, it is not, Elena?" Stefan said, looking at the orange and pink sky behind Elena. Elena turned and looked, saying, "Yes, it is. It is very beautiful. Not many little boys would notice that. I think you have the soul of an artist, Mr. Salvatore."
Stefan chuckled, "I am not a mister yet. I am just a boy. But if I am an artist, should I not create something?"
"You could paint with Niklaus? Or write in a book like Croiá?" Elena said, thinking. "Or maybe compose a piece of music like Rebekah? You could be very famous one day."
"Yes, I could. What do you like to do?" Stefan asked, taking the hand she offered. Jeremy was splashing around at the water's edge. Elena yelled at him to get out of the water.
"Oh, it tis silly. You might laugh," Elena mused, turning her attention back to the curly haired boy beside her.
Stefan pulled at her hand and said solemnly, "I would not laugh at you, Elena Gilbert. Never."
"Then, with that promise," Elena said bravely. "I want to be a doctor like my father."
Stefan burst out laughing, thinking she was amusing him.
"Stefan," Elena scolded. "You just laughed. I was serious."
"Oh," Stefan said, sheepishly. "You mean it?"
"My father was a great physician," Elena went on. "But I said it was silly. But Miss Hayley told me about Elizabeth Blackwell. She is a woman and a doctor. She read a newspaper article about her. She graduated in 1849 from medical school, if you can believe that."
"I think you are funning me!" Stefan said. He broke away, still laughing.
Elena mumbled, "I cannot very well be a witch, a wolf, or a vampire. I do not see why I cannot be a doctor..."
Damon ran back, "Elena, come, let us throw Stefan in the lake. He failed to take his bath on Sunday!"
Elena smiled as she heard Stefan roar, "I did too take my bath. Damon, you ought to take a bath and wash off that ugly face!"
Main Parlor
"You hate chess," Marcel said drolly as Rebekah set up the board.
"Hush," Rebekah hissed. "We have to be clever about things. We cannot meet in secret anymore."
"Why ever not? It is worth a whipping, in my opinion," Marcel replied. He went on, with concern, "Are you giving up? You never give up."
Marcel reached out to touch Rebekah's hand, but she withdrew it hastily.
"No, of course not," Rebekah scoffed. "Though I am loathe to ever feel that damn hairbrush on my backside again. We just have to be more clever."
"Play me that song again, 'The Arkansas Traveller,'" Marcel urged, pointing at the piano. "You were playing it so beautifully earlier."
Rebekah smiled, knowing Marcel hated that song, but the music would make it easier for them to speak in private. Rebekah abandoned the pretense of the chess board and sat at the piano and started to play.
"Lovely," Marcel said loudly. Finn and Sage were having tea on the porch while Klaus and Elijah were holed up in Elijah's study. It was harder for vampires to hear over other sounds.
"Nik is never going to let us be together," Rebekah whispered.
Marcel shook his head. "I spoke to Elijah, he said Papa just needs more time. With everything going on..."
"Do not be a fool, Marcel," Rebekah hissed, playing louder. "We need to make our own plan. Tis not their life."
"But it tis too dangerous," Marcel protested, looking behind him.
"Nik has made you paranoid, too. Danger is everywhere. It will always be something. There will be some reason we cannot be together. It tis now Dahlia, but then it will be Father...Face it, Niklaus fears being alone. That we will love each other more than him. That is not love, tis bondage," Rebekah said as she merged into another tune.
"I do not know, Rebekah," Marcel said, leaning over the piano, to whisper in her ear. "Be prudent and mature. If there is danger, this could be folly."
"I have been prudent and it has gotten us nowhere," Rebekah announced.
"Is that why you attacked Kol at school? Was that prudent? We need proof that we can be rational and mature. Then, Papa will help us," Marcel claimed with feeling. He sat down on the bench beside his lover.
"I did not attack Kol! And at any rate, I have made my amends with him. I was angry at you," Rebekah exclaimed. "Marcel, trust me. My hybrid brother is biding his time looking for excuses to keep us here under his watch. If we do not go soon, it will be something else. If you love me, you will do this for me."
Marcel scooted closer to Rebekah. "You know I love you, but I cannot betray their trust. Not now, you were not at the meeting today. I now see that the dangers are real. Can you not trust your own blood?"
"My blood has betrayed me time and time again," Rebekah said, souring. "And I was not at the meeting because I was at bloody school. Do you not see how they restrain me?"
Marcel patted her thigh, "My love, please be more patient. I beg you."
"I have been patient," Rebekah replied tightly. "I see now if you had to choose, I would not be your first choice. I have bloody homework to do!"
Rebekah slammed down the heavy piano fallboard, almost catching Marcel's fingers and stalked off. He took the sheet music for "The Arkansas Traveller" and tore it to shreds.
Marcel really did loathe that song.