Chapter 55
Hope sat in the chair across from her bed, watching as Izzy hugged and squeezed her little brother as if she hadn't seen him in a lifetime. Her heart broke when Izzy cringed in pain after Oliver's knee hit her ribs.
"I wish I could heal you with my magic but the only spells I know are for Supernaturals."
"It's alright," Izzy continued to hug her brother ignoring the in her side. "I don't really mind it right now."
Then there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Hope answered immediately sniffing out her Uncle.
Elijah entered the room, a small smile on his face and a decorative tray covered in fruit and vegetables.
"Hello again, Izzabella."
"It's...just Izzy, actually."
His smirk broadening, Elijah came further into the room, holding the tray down and out to Oliver who nearly pulled his sister's arms off in an effort to see what Elijah coveted.
"Well, just Izzy, Marcellus said there was a chance you two were hungry. Dinner is in the oven but I thought you might like a snack to tie you over."
Izzy and Oliver eyed the bright array of fruits and vegetable with skeptical eyes. Their food was rarely so colorful.
Turning his nose in the air, Oliver pushed the tray away.
"Come now." Elijah knelt on the floor in front of them, picking a bright red strawberry from the tray, and holding it out to the picky toddler. "You haven't even given it a try."
The bright red color reminded Oliver of candy and, just as Elijah thought, he took the strawberry, eating it greedily and covering his lips in red. He grabbed another without Elijah's insistence, eating it just as greedily as the first.
"Wow," Izzy muttered. "I didn't know he liked those that much."
"I think it's the color that so readily draws children to them."
Elijah turned the tray so the strawberries were out of Oliver's reach and a line of carrots now lay in front of him.
This time Oliver knew exactly what was in front of him and he refused to touch them, pushing Elijah's hand away as he tried to hand one of the orange sticks to him.
"He hates carrots," Izzy laughed. "One time I tried to trick him into eating one by hiding it in a bag of cheese puffs and he threw the whole bag away."
"Cheese puffs," Elijah snarled as he rose back to his feet.
Hope chuckled. "Uncle Elijah hates junk food."
"I have nothing against junk food...in moderation. Even Marcellus was allowed the occasional beignet as a child."
Hope shot a knowing glance at Elijah. "By you...or dad?"
Elijah couldn't help but smile. He should've known Hope would've figured that out. "Always by Klaus. He would wake him to a tray of beignets as tall as the boy himself and they would go through it all before sunrise. Then they would romp off through the morning and when the time came for Marcel's afternoon studies, it was impossible to get him to focus for more than a sixty seconds, if that."
Elijah grabbed another strawberry and gave it to Oliver. The toddler's eyes lit with joy as he took the sweet treat.
"That is why I prefer natural sweetness. Still sweet enough to satiate even the most rotten sweet tooth while causing little to no behavioral issues."
As Oliver held his hand out for another strawberry, Elijah was hesitant to comply.
"Does he speak?"
Hugging Oliver closer, Izzy said, "Sometimes. When we're alone. He stopped talking in front of people after mom left."
"Well," Elijah picked up the tray and brought it over to Oliver. The boy stretched his arms out to the strawberries but Elijah was careful to keep them just out of his reach. Kneeling back down to the boy, Elijah said, "If you tell me your name, I'll let you have all the strawberries you want."
Oliver frowned, angry at Elijah trying to trick him into speaking. He waited, staring at the strawberries with a weakening pout but Elijah remained strong, refusing to give into the toddler's tantrum.
Until finally, he mumbled, "My name's Oliver."
Holding out his hands, Oliver waited for Elijah to keep his end of the bargain. Without hesitation, Elijah sat the tray on the bed next to Izzy so Oliver could grab all the strawberries he wanted.
"You are good," said Izzy. "I usually just give in to him."
"I've had centuries to develop an endless surplus of patience."
Marcel was marching intently past the bedroom door when he spotted Elijah."There you are. Thought I'd find you in the kitchen still."
"Was just heading that way." Elijah stood, leaving the tray with the children as he walked over to Marcel. "What's on your mind?"
Marcel glanced nervously at Hope. Stepping closer to Elijah, he muttered, "Kol and I would like to speak to you. In Freya's workshop."
From the location alone, Elijah knew what the meeting would be about. With a nod, he followed Marcel out of the room but not before turning to Izzy and saying, "Make sure he doesn't fill up on fruit. Dinner will be ready soon."
Marcel led Elijah to Freya's workshop where Freya, Kol, and Niklaus were already waiting.
"So," Niklaus groaned. "What is this all about?"
Kol looked to Marcel, waiting for him to lead the conversation since he so often had Niklaus's ear.
"We were thinking," Marcel slowly started. "That...it's been almost 24 hours..."
Freya glimpsed over to the spell she had running on her table. The wilting flower sitting in the empty vase at the center established the timeline for her.
"It's only been about twenty hours. And your time has been extended Marcel, seeing as how you weren't punished until this morning."
Marcel's jaw dropped in exasperation.
Niklaus looked away from him. He and his two older siblings had already discussed the extension of Marcel's healing-nullification and, although he protested as best he could, in the end, Elijah and Freya won out.
"But that's not fair."
"It is more than fair, Marcellus." Elijah walked further into the room, standing between Freya and Niklaus so the three of them would appear a united from against Kol and Marcel. "Kol had a restless night and now so will you."
With a sigh, Kol said, "I am willing to overlook the injustice of it all if you lot agree to lift this spell for both of us right now."
"No," Freya answered curtly. "I said twenty-four hours and I meant twenty-four hours. The injustice wouldn't only be yours, it would be Finn's as well. He suffered worse than a sore bottom and as far as I'm concerned, you're getting off easy as it is."
Kol's eyes dropped shamefully to the floor. Freya was always on his side, to have her crossed at him broke his heart more than anything.
"This is torture," Marcel continued to object.
"Torture?" Elijah released a small chuckle.
Embarrassed that he deigned to misuse a word that meant so much more to the Mikaelsons than a warm bottom, Marcel crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, "It's humiliating. I feel like everyone knows - like the wolves can sniff it out. And now we have to sit at yet another meal from beginning to end in this condition...do you have any idea how painful that is?"
"It's supposed to be painful, Marcellus. And it's supposed to be embarrassing. It's a punishment. If it were something you could easily bare through, it wouldn't be effective."
Turning his sorrowful gaze to Niklaus, Marcel begged, "Please, Klaus."
"Marcel," Elijah's voice snapped, cutting off anything Klaus even thought to say. "What have I told you about going to your father after I have already given you an answer."
Gritting his teeth in anger, Marcel marched to the door. As he opened it, he paused at Elijah calling his name.
"Marcellus. I think you should spend some time in your room to calm down before dinner."
"Are you serious?" Marcel boomed.
Elijah's irritation only grew, his frown deepening. "I don't believe I have ever been one for jokes in these matters."
Frustration turning to anger, Marcel slammed the door behind him.
"I can't keep spending the day avoiding Davina," Kol muttered under his breath. "Guess I'll just go find her and face the music.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself after Marcel's outburst, Elijah said, "I left her in the kitchen taking care of dinner. You should be able to find her there. She seemed uncertain about being left alone with dinner so brother, please, make sure she doesn't at the very least, burn the place down."
Kol solemnly nodded. Walking towards the door with his head hung in shame of failing to convince his siblings to release him from his torture, Kol was suddenly paused by Klaus stating his name. Glancing up to his brother in hope, he prayed that Klaus had changed his mind.
"I know you may not be in the mood for it," Klaus started lowly. "But...on your way, could you just...check in on Hope? I would do it but if I went in there, she would swear I'm hovering. But she likes you. She won't think you're being overprotective."
Kol snarled his lip at Klaus's request. "She likes me because I don't hover. I trust her."
"And so do I, brother. But it's not about trust."
"It's about control."
Klaus gnashed his teeth at the accusation. "It's about keeping her safe."
"She's a powerful witch. She can protect herself from the likes of a sixteen-year-old girl."
"Deep down, I know that you're right and I am trying to convince himself of the same but...it's like there is a tiresome voice in me screaming that something's going to go wrong, and every time I loosen the reigns and try to give any of you an ounce of freedom it gets louder and louder until I give in and I clamp down again." Klaus strolled slowly across the room to Kol, a melancholy in his eyes that worried his brother. "I wish nothing more than the strength to overcome this incessant paranoia but...it's not that easy. Please, Kol. You don't have to report back to me. Just check in on them. It's been a long day for them both, especially for that Izzy girl."
Kol's frown deepened further as he remembered what Marcel told him about the man who attacked Izzy. He didn't know her very well but he knew what it was like to be a young witch, afraid and alone, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the arms from the man who put his hands on her but Marcel got to him first.
"Fine," Kol bit as he turned back to the door. "I'll do it for them, not for you."
A small breath of relief escaped Klaus's lips as he watched Kol leave the room. He didn't need Kol to tell him anything because he knew his brother wouldn't let anything happen to his little girl. So if something was wrong, Kol would fix it and Klaus would never have to worry about it.
-M-
Finn rounded the kitchen corner expecting to find Elijah standing over a hot stove since that was the last place Freya told him he'd be but he was stunned to see Davina instead. He stood in the doorway, cautious to enter the same room as the girl he was tortured for.
Confused by Finn's wary behavior, Davina muttered an uncertain, "Hey. What's, uh...going on?"
Barely finding his voice, Finn pointed to the fridge and said, "Freya leaves blood bags in the freezer for me."
"Oh. Well," Davina motioned for him to proceed to the fridge and, as if her consent to enter was all he needed, Finn continued in.
Davina took a seat at the counter, watching as Finn grabbed a blood bag from the freeze and the black scribbles of Freya's handwriting denoting the blood type of each bag across the front.
"Y'know," she softly began. "I'm sorry. About what Kol and Marcel did. I didn't expect them to do anything like that to you. And I didn't want them to."
Grabbing another bag from the fridge and throwing it back in disappointment when he found it was not the type he was searching for, Finn said, "My brother rarely does what anyone 'wants' him to do. He's always been a master of his own agency. And Marcel...he's never liked me."
"Can you blame him? It's almost like you two met when you were trying to kill his family."
"I was trying to save them!"
Davina rolled her eyes and walked back over to the oven, peeping in on the trout roasting inside. "You can say that until you're blue in the faced, no one's going to believe it."
Finn threw the last bag of blood into the freezer and slammed it shut.
Speeding to the door, he decided to go back down to the basement and break something until he didn't feel like breaking anything anymore, but before he could even cross the threshold, he slammed face-first into Hope, knocking her to the ground.
"What the hell," Hope screamed as Izzy helped pull her to her feet, Oliver standing by his sister's side, curiously watching the interaction.
Noting the anger building in Hope, Davina quickly rounded the corner to play peacekeeper. "Calm down, Hope. It was an accident."
As much as she didn't like Finn, Hope trusted Davina. Hoping to not seem overly vulgar in front of Izzy, Hope brushed off their encounter and continued into the kitchen.
"Where were you even trying to get to that fast," Hope muttered. "It's not like anyone wants you."
"Stop saying that," Finn bit. "This was my family before it was yours."
"And yet, they still somehow like me more."
Something suddenly came over Finn. Davina could see it in his eyes, an erratic cloud coming over them. She knew what he was going to do before he did but before he could move, she uttered a spell under her breath that sealed his feet to the floor.
The cloud of anger that overcame Finn suddenly vanished when he realized he couldn't move.
"Hope, could you give us a moment?"
Completely ignorant to the danger she was just in, Hope opened the fridge and grabbed the gallon of apple juice tucked inside. Then, stretching for a plastic cup at the very back of the cabinet above her head, she said, "Just...one second. Oliver's thirsty."
With a wag of her finger, Davina made the plastic cup slide to the edge of the cabinet for Hope.
Pulling the cup down with a satisfied smirk, Hope said, "I should've thought of that."
"Go," Davina abruptly repeated, not as entertained by Hope's charm as she normally would be.
Noticing the seriousness in Davina's eyes, Hope motioned for Izzy and Oliver to follow her out.
Once they were alone, Davina released the spell keeping Finn still.
Standing directly in front of him, her eyes staring coldly into his, Davina growled, "If you would have done ANYTHING to hurt that girl-"
Suddenly, she found herself speechless as Finn wrapped his arms around her waist, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cried against her shoulder.
"Thank you," he cried. "Th-they would've...killed me."
Feeling her heartbreak at his words, Davina stammered, "Th-they wouldn't have...they wouldn't have-"
"Yes, they would. I know my brother. There isn't anyone he loves more than his children, especially not me. If I would've let my anger get the best of me...he wouldn't hesitate to send me back to that Void."
Vividly reliving the loneliness of the Void as he spoke about it, Davina enveloped Finn in a hug, squeezing him tighter until his tears began to subside.
When he found himself out of tears, Finn pulled away from Davina, shamefully wiping his wet cheeks with the backs of his hands. A shiver went down his spine when he sensed Kol at the kitchen door.
Kol walked right past him as if he were invisible, pulling Davina into a hug and kissing her. She loving returned the gesture, longing for his touch after somehow just missing him all day. The Compound was big, sure, but after a while it seemed as though Kol was deliberately trying to avoid her.
"Doin' alright, love?"
She quickly nodded, turning away from Finn back over to the oven in hopes of distracting her lover from Finn. "Just...watching a fish roast. Probably the most boring thing one of your siblings has ever asked me to do."
"But I bet you do it masterfully."
Davina giggled at Kol's teasing and, enchanted by her smile, he kissed her once more.
"I'm supposed to be checkin' in on Hope for dear ol' Niklaus," said Kol as he walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bag of blood. "But she wasn't in her room."
"Those are mine," Finn spoke up just as Kol opened his mouth to bite open the blood bag.
With a snarl, Kol said, "Says who?"
"Freya. She got those so I won't have to feed on anyone."
With a diabolical chuckled, Kol ripped open the bag and said, "I've been drinking these for days. Perfect for snacking on the go."
Finn's fangs shot out of his mouth as he anger grew, suddenly realizing why his favorite type of blood was unexpectantly missing from the freezer when Freya had assured him that she'd gotten a nice supply of each type.
Downing the entire bag in one long gulp, Kol tossed the empty bag in the sink and motioned his hand at Finn, daring him to attack him.
A hand suddenly clasped over Finn's shoulder, forcing him in place. Glaring back behind him, Finn's frustration grew at seeing Marcel standing in the doorway.
Bending down to his level, Marcel growled, "Seeing you with your fangs bared in the same room as Davina with the scent of blood so heavily in the air makes me uncomfortable. Put them away."
The viciousness rumbling through Marcel's throat intimidated Finn into immediately retracting his fangs.
Marcel lifted his hand from Finn's shoulder and walked over to the kitchen. "Need a quick bite after dealing with that Mystic Falls trash. I can't believe they actually thought we'd let them into my city when no other vampires are."
Taking the blood bag from Kol's hand, Marcel sunk his teeth into it and drained it till the last drop.
Kol was unphased by Marcel's gruffness and simply grabbed another bag from the freezer himself. "I can't believe Stefan had the audacity to besmirch my sister's name." Biting into the bag and taking a calming sip of blood, he added, "Y'know, I really should've killed him all those years ago when I had the chance."
Davina rolled her eyes at the scene. "I can't believe you two are just standing there, casually drinking blood and contemplating murder like a couple of psychopaths."
Marcel paused just as he was about to grab another blood bag, realizing how the scene must've looked to anyone who wasn't a Mikaelson. And then he laughed. Two hundred years ago, feeding was an art form. Cunning a human to relax enough in his presence for him to Compel them, finding a safe place to feed on them away from prying eye or bringing them back to the Compound so he could feed in the open to his heart's content. And then sending them back on their way convinced that they'd been bitten by some monstrous bayou mosquitos. The advent of blood bags changed everything. Now, feeding was as easy as grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Sure he preferred the old fashioned way, but there was some merit to be given to human innovation.
"Sorry," Marcel said, calming his laughter as he continued to grab another bag. "We will stop talking about murder for the time being."
Before he could bite into the bag, Finn sped over to him, snatching the blood bag from his hand and growling, "These are mine. Go find an unsuspecting victim to feed on like the animal you are."
"God, this boy with his blood bags," Kol drowned in annoyance. "Here," he suddenly threw the open bag at Finn without warning. "Take your blood and go."
Blood splattered across Finn's face, dripping down to his clothes, covering him in a thick, red, coagulated syrup. Finn's eyes widened in shock at first but as he watched his brother's eyes light with glee, his shock turned into frustration, a frustration he knew he couldn't vent.
And then the tears began to fall.
"Is he...is he crying?" Marcel couldn't believe his eyes.
"Bugger off." Kol mocked with heavy laughter. "You're Finn Mikaelson. You don't cry, you get even."
Davina's mouth dropped in appall. She slapped Kol's chest, disgusted by his own indifference to Finn's feelings.
Emotions of anger and growing frustration over his own helplessness overwhelming him, Finn vamped out of the kitchen, just barely missing Elijah as he came in.
"Was that Finn?" Elijah asked but his desire to know the answer to the question was suddenly overwrought by his unscrupulous attention to detail when he noticed the specks of blood on the floor. Cutting his eyes at Kol, he said, "Remember to mop after you feed."
Kol leaned against the counter, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. "How do you know it was me?"
"I know my little brother. Did you check on Hope?"
Pushing himself from the counter, Kol said, "Was just heading that way."
"Don't bother. Just clean this floor. Marcel and I will check in on them."
Marcel's shoulders seemed to slowly fold into themselves under Elijah's steady gaze. A slight nod of his head was all the signal Elijah had to give for Marcel to know to follow him.
"Davina, do us a favor and make the Hollandaise while I'm gone," Elijah said following Marcel out of the kitchen.
"Me?" Davina stammered. "But...I don't know how."
"There's a recipe in the book in the cabinet. If you can concoct a spell, you can make a Hollandaise."
Davina tried to protest more but, with a conning smile, Elijah left.
Davina reached into the cabinet and grabbed the recipe book as instructed. She flipped through the pages full of Elijah's immaculate script until he found the page that read Hollandaise in perfectly scrawled cursive.
Kol smiled as her eyebrows knotted at the top of her head in confusion as if she was reading some ancient text written in an indecipherable language.
"Here, love," he reached for the book. "Let me help you out with that."
Davina yanked the book away, her intense eyes still focused on the page and refusing to look at Kol. "I don't need your help."
Confused by her anger, he asked, "What did I do?"
She looked up at him, taken aback by his confusion. "What you did to Finn was just plain cruel," she bit. "You were a bully for no reason other than being a bully."
Kol rolled his eyes, an exaggerated groan escaping his lips. Leaning back against the counter, he said, "Not you too. Why is everyone suddenly so Pro-Finn all of a sudden."
"I'm not Pro-Finn, I'm Anti-Bullying."
"Then go preach your sermon at the local High School because Finn does not need your support. Need I remind you all that HE MURDERED ME! I was his brother. His baby brother. In his anger, he made me die a slow, painful death. Say what you will about Niklaus and Elijah but I know above all else that they would never do something so heinous. Not to me. No matter what dastardly deeds I've done, I've always been their baby brother. Finn has never treated me as anything more than a nuisance. A nuisance that he could just..." Kol snapped his fingers together. "Wipeout with a simple hex."
As tears began to form in his eyes, Davina forgot her anger, placing her hands gently against his cheeks.
Forcing his face into a tight grimace, Kol stared down into Davina's eyes and said, "I don't care how much he cries, I don't care how much he suffers, it will never be enough. And I will never trust him with you, or Hope, or anyone that I care about. Never."
Watching as he came to the brink of breaking, Davina pulled Kol's face down to her own, pressing her forehead against his as she whispered against his lips, "Okay. It's okay. I won't let him ever hurt you again. I promise."
-M-
Marcel was sure to leave a certain amount of room between him and Elijah as he lead the way to Davina's room. He waited for Elijah to scold him for disobeying but the scolding never came. They marched in silence all the way to Hope's room.
Just as Elijah suspected, Hope was in her room with Izzy, both laughing giddily at something Oliver was doing. The room was a mess with books stacked into a castle in the middle of the for Oliver to play in and Hope's knickknacks strewn about the floor as the boy played messily. The sight was enough to both quell and rise Elijah's anxiety.
Forcing himself to not order Hope and Izzy to clean the room while they were having such a good time, Elijah quickly left them playing with Oliver and guided Marcel further down the hall to his own bedroom.
Marcel entered his room with a sullen frown painted on his face.
As Elijah followed him in, he immediately began to lecture. "As of this morning, there has been a change in regime concerning your punishments. With Mikael's sudden return, Niklaus is struggling with disciplining you as needed. So for the time being, your misbehaviors will fall to me for correction."
Marcel cringed at his actions being called 'misbehaviors' as if he were a child.
"That being said," Elijah eased the door closed behind him. "When I give you an order, Marcellus, I expect you to follow it. Not when you feel the need, but when I give the order. Do I make myself clear?"
His face burning with shame, Marcel said, "I do not like being sent to my room. I am two hundred years old. I will not be-"
Marcel's speech was cut short by when he suddenly found himself bent over Elijah's knee, Elijah's foot resting against the wooden desk chair, keeping Marcel suspended in the air. Marcel's struggles were put to an immediate end by Elijah's stone grip against his neck forcing him to face the floor.
"When I give you an order, Marcellus," Elijah repeated his order, his hand falling heavily against Marcel's upturned behind, landing spank after heavy spank against his bottom in between each careful pause in his speech. "I expect you to follow it. Not when you feel the need, but when I give the order. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"
Marcel bit his lip, wanting desperately to find the strength to say no and if he had his supernatural healing ability, he just might have, but between Elijah's current steady spanking and the residual pain from his morning thrashing, he could barely find the strength to struggle let alone protest.
"O...kay," he groaned.
Elijah slapped his hand down harder. "Yes sir," he corrected.
"Yes sir," Marcel spat out.
Elijah stood Marcel back to his feet, pulling him into his embrace as Marcel fought against his tears.
"Do you know how much I care about you, Marcellus?"
Lightly nodding his head, Marcel wrapped his arms around Elijah, unconsciously hugging him tighter as he buried his face in the crook of Elijah's neck.
"I do not enjoy having these conversations with you but I will never hesitate to do so when necessary." Pulling himself from their embrace, Elijah said, "You are to stay in here until dinner. And then I want you right back in here afterward."
"But Elijah-"
"Do not 'but' me, Marcellus. I gave you an order. I do not hold a cache of boundless leniency like Niklaus, as you well remember. I give an order once and if I must repeat myself, I give an encore performance with an accompanying symphony of apologetic howls."
Elijah left Marcel to his annoyance without another word.
-M-
At dinner, Marcel found his seat beside Rebekah and Kol beside Davina. Klaus and Elijah took their respective seats at each end of the table. Freya sat beside Kol, putting a barrier between him and Finn. There was a growing animosity between her two little brothers and Freya couldn't tell if it was the same old same or if some new infraction had happened between them and neither of them was speaking about it.
"This Hollandaise is amazing, Davina," Freya said with a kind smile at the girl sitting next to her brother.
Davina went red as she nodded her acceptance. She was so stressed about the Mikaelson's reaction to her first attempt at a Hollandaise that she methodically remade it three times until she felt it could be something to be proud of.
Dabbing a crumb from his lips with a cloth napkin, Elijah said, "I dare say it is perfect. You followed my recipe to the letter."
Kol wrapped his arm around Davina's shoulders, a broad smile on his face. "What else could you expect from THE most talented witch ever born in New Orleans."
A small scoff from Finn drew Kol's glare to him but as Freya cut her eyes his way, he decided not to respond.
"What's the plan with these Mystic Falls vamps," Marcel asked unprovoked, stating what was on his mind whether or not it upset the heads of their family.
"I'm taking care of the Mystic Falls vampires," Freya answered calmly. "We're not giving them Klaus's blood but perhaps we can find a comparable solution."
"Or they could fix their own problem. I mean, when have they ever come running to help us."
"I created their problem, it is my responsibility to fix it."
"I'd hate to say it, dear sister, but agree with Marcel," said Finn. All eyes fell to him, surprised that he would agree with Marcel on anything. "Why is helping them even under consideration? Those scoundrels killed me. Let them suffer and their friends die."
Kol burst into unabashed laughter. "You're one to talk about deserved justice for the wrongfully murdered. What Freya should've done was let you spend everlasting eternity in that blasted Void. That's better than you deserved because if I had some say over what occurred in your afterlife, I'd make sure you'd rot in a dank, dark, lonesome hell."
"Enough." Elijah slammed his hand down on the table, forks and knives dancing under the quake. "Finn. Perhaps you'd prefer to take your dinner into the parlor to finish."
Finn's mouth dropped in surprise. He'd barely said a word, Kol was the one who lost his temper, and yet he was being banished from the family.
Throwing his napkin into his plate, Finn sped off from the table, leaving everything behind.
Freya cut her eyes at Elijah but her noble brother didn't seem bothered by Finn's reaction.
"I'll go check on him. Goodnight everyone," she said rising from the table. She paused as she walked towards the door to turn to Izzy. "A special goodnight to you, Izzy. It's always nice to have another witch around. And don't let these vampires intimidate you." Her gaze fell to Elijah. "We're still more powerful than them."
As dinner neared to an end, Elijah noticed that Oliver had played all over his plate but barely ate a thing.
"Oliver," he sang his name from across the table. "Eat your dinner."
"He doesn't eat fish," Izzy answered for him.
"Is that so?" Looking down to Oliver, Elijah insisted, "Give it a try. Davina worked hard on it."
Oliver shook his head 'no'.
Elijah sighed but refused to give up. "Perhaps just a bit of the salad."
"He doesn't eat greens either," said Izzy.
"Well, he must eat something. A boy can't survive on strawberries alone."
Irritated by Elijah's persistence, Oliver pushed the plate further across the table and threw himself back in his seat.
Elijah remained unmoved by the boy's anger. Taking a small sip from his wine glass, he said, "You and I will sit here until I feel as if you've eaten enough. And I'm a vampire, dear boy, I could be here all night."
Marcel had finished his dinner and, although he dreaded the thought of being sent to his room by Elijah again, all through dinner he waited for the moment he could get up from his stiff chair and relieve some of the pain from his bottom. But as he stared down at the petulant toddler, ignorant to the extent of Elijah's will.
With a sigh, Marcel got up and walked over to Oliver, kneeling to the boy's level as he grabbed his fork and scooped up a forkful of trout.
"Trust me," Marcel said kindly as he held the fork in front of Oliver's face. "He can, and will, sit here all night. You won't' outlast him."
Oliver turned his nose up at the fish.
"He likes McDonald's," Izzy suggested. "There's one not far from here. I could-"
Elijah shook his head no and cut Izzy off before she could suggest going to McDonald's herself. "I know that you are accustomed to making decisions for yourself and your brother, Izzy, and I'm sorry that a child as young as you were ever put in a position to do so, but we do not eat fast food in this household. Your brother has been spoiled on junk and fast food so now a real meal has become unappealing to him. Oliver will learn to eat real food if it's the only lesson he leaves this house with."
"He just doesn't know what he's missing out on," Marcel continued. He ate the trout himself and gave an exaggerated moan of delight. "Davina, I don't know how you did it, but this has to be some of the best trout I've had in two hundred years."
"Really," Rebekah came over to Marcel, taking a knee by his side so she was at Oliver's level as well. "Let me try."
Marcel scooped up another forkful of fish and brought it to Rebekah's mouth. As if the fish on Oliver's plate wasn't the exact same fish she'd just finished eating, Rebekah put on an act as if she hadn't tasted anything better in her entire life.
With all of Marcel and Rebekah's acting, Oliver grew curious about the fish. He took the spoon from Marcel's hand and broke off a piece of fish for himself.
Marcel and Rebekah watched with growing anticipation as Oliver took a small bit of fish.
It didn't taste as bad as he remembered but still, it wasn't something he wanted to try again. Setting the fork back down on the table, he folded his arms over his chest and stared petulantly at Elijah.
"Well," Rebekah stood. "We tried it your way, Elijah, but the boy simply does not like fish." She marched over to the adjoining kitchen and went directly to the fridge, grabbing a jar of organic strawberry jam from the top shelf. "But I know something all children like."
As Rebekah pulled the jar of peanut butter from the cupboards, Oliver shouted out, "PB and J!"
Everyone stared in shocked at the boy's sudden exclamation as he hadn't said a thing all night.
With a smile, Rebekah said, "Would you like to help me make a sandwich?"
Oliver nodded energetically and Marcel scooped him into his arms and carried him over to the counter, sitting him on top so he could watch Rebekah spread the jam and peanut butter on the bread.
As soon as Rebekah finished, Oliver scarfed down the sandwich in seconds.
"Slow down, kid," Marcel laughed. "It's not gonna run away from you."
Elijah fought the urge to run over to them with his napkin and clean the excess peanut butter and jam coating the boy's face.
"That sandwich may suffice for tonight," he grunted. "But don't expect that to be your every meal. Starting tomorrow, you will have breakfast like everyone else."
Oliver narrowed his eyes at Elijah, eliciting a chuckle from Marcel and Rebekah.
"Now you need a bath." Rebekah lifted Oliver onto her hip. "Come along, Izzy. I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."
"Sleeping?" Izzy looked around the room at all the adults in front of her. "You're letting us stay the night? What's the cost?"
"No cost, Izzy," said Hayley. "And you're free to stay for as long as you want."
"But...CPS will come looking for us and if they find me with Oliver-"
"I will handle CPS," Marcel asserted. "Tomorrow, I will find your caseworker and I will explain everything and I will make myself yours and Oliver's legal guardian for the time being."
Izzy's stared at him in disbelief. "B-but...they said it takes months to qualify as a foster parent."
Rebekah let out a small chuckle at the girl's naivety. "Sweetheart, we're vampires. Compelling people to do our bidding comes with the territory. You needn't worry anymore. The Mikaelsons will take care of everything."
Tears weld in Izzy's eyes but she fought them in order to save face in front of Hope. "Thank you," she mumbled. "And I promise we won't be a burden for long. I'm going to get a job and as soon as I'm able, I'm going to find a place for me and Ollie and we'll be out of your hair."
Hayley reached across the table, taking Izzy's hand in hers. The girl looked up with tired, swollen eyes.
"You're not a burden," Hayley swore. "And you don't have to get a job any time soon. Right now, your only job is school. It's our job to keep you safe, fed, and clothed. Do you understand?"
Izzy lost the battle of keeping her tears at bay. She bit her lip to keep in from trembling as she nodded her acceptance to Hayley.
As Izzy stood to follow Rebekah out of the dining room, her hand brushed across Hope's shoulder. "Goodnight, Hope," she whispered.
Hope was oblivious of the pulsating vein in Klaus's forehead, her heart palpitating with excitement at Izzy's touch.
"If she touches you like that again," Klaus began as soon as Izzy was out of the room. "I may have to eat her."
A series of disapproving scolds from Hayley, Elijah, Marcel, and Hope resounded.
"I meant 'speak'," Klaus immediately corrected. "I may have to speak to her."
-M-
Marcel laid in bed with a book in front of his face, attempting to distract himself from the dull ache of his behind with the philosophical teachings of Michel Foucault. He remembered the first time he read 'Discipline and Punishment', he considered it a manual on how to control the human psyche and even that of his vampires, but since returning to the old Mikaelson regime of his youth, he viewed the book in an entirely new light.
The sound of his door cracking open drew his attention from the book.
"Hey," Rebekah hummed as she glided into the room. "Thought you'd come help me put Izzy and Oliver to bed."
Marcel closed his book and sat it on the nightstand. "I would have but your brother...gave me an order to come straight here after dinner. And the last time I disobeyed him didn't go so well."
"That damn, Elijah." Rebekah slid into Marcel's bed and straddled his hips. "Does it hurt?"
Marcel lifted her by her waist and flipped her onto her back so that he was hovering above her, relieving some of the pain off his backside.
"Not anymore." He leaned down and kissed her, completely erasing all semblance of pain from his mind.
-M-
Marcel woke in the middle of the night, Rebekah fast asleep in his arms. His mind drifted back to the day's happenings and how on edge he was set by the appearance of hte Mystic Falls vamps and how cool Klaus seemed by it. In his entire life, hardly anything could set his father on edge. Niklaus Mikaelson was a beast and a King. He could kill anything and would protect his family from everything.
Only one person could ever get under Niklaus's skin.
Marcel eased himself from under Rebekah, lying her softly back onto the silk bedsheets.
He slipped out of bed and crept to the door as silently as possible.
"You keep sneaking out of bed with me to go see my brother and a girl's likely to get jealous." Rebekah's voice broke softly through the dark from the bed.
Marcel laughed knowingly. "I'm just going to that bathroom."
"No, you're not. You're going to see my brother because you know he's had a hard time falling asleep since Mikael's return."
Marcel frowned guiltily. Rebekah simply turned over in the bed, gripping the fluffy pillow between her arms as she muttered, "I'm going to need a five-star dinner and a night at the Hilton to make up for all this sneaking around. And a diamond necklace."
Marcel sped over to the bed and kissed Rebekah's temple. "Two nights at the Hilton," he promised. "And a diamond tiara."
Rebekah smirked, her eyes still closed as she snuggled closer to the pillow. "You'd better get out of here before I pull you back into this bed with me."
Marcel sped out of the room and down the hall, going exactly where he knew Klaus would be.
Klaus sat on the sofa in the middle of his studio, staring at his newest creation. A clearing in the middle of the forest where he and his siblings used to play, and big old white oak tree sat in the middle. He sensed Marcel before he even opened the door.
"You should be in bed," Klaus said without looking away from the painting. "Elijah's been on a tear for the past few days. Don't want you to get into any more trouble if you can avoid it."
"I'm don't care about Elijah," Marcel walked further into the room. "I care about you."
Klaus's response was silence.
Marcel looked at the painting Klaus was examining so thoughtfully. "What's this? The background for a PBS puppet show?"
Klaus chuckled. Pointing at the tree in the middle of the painting, he said, "My siblings and I used to play there. There were only so many places we could go to be free from Mikael's wrath. Finn found it first. Used to go there to practice magic in secret but then one night Kol followed him there. Then he brought the rest of us along. Our big brother hated it but...it was the only place we could feel safe until we found the caves."
Marcel sat beside Klaus, admiring the detail of his father's work.
"Y'know...I still think about killing him," Marcel muttered. "I dream about it. After everything he's done to this family, everything he took...I want him to pay."
Klaus wrapped his arm around Marcels' shoulders and pulled him against his chest. "I know." Klaus pressed his lips against Marcel's head in a gentle kiss. Then, pulling back from him, he said, "But you remember what I said I would do if you ever tried to go after Mikael again. And I meant that. I may freeze at the thought of punishing you after tormenting Finn but I will do whatever it takes to keep you from foolishly throwing your life away. You leave Mikael and the Mystic Falls vampires to us. You focus on New Orleans. This is your home."
"This is my home...and yet I'm not allowed to make decisions regarding it."
Klaus held Marcel closer, carefully stroking his hand along his arm. "No," he whispered. "Not yet."
Marcel sank deeper into Klaus's hold. He was angry at Klaus's response but being in his father's hold emersed him in a sense of safety he used to feel every night when Klaus first became his 'poppa', a safety that made all of his sadness and anger disappear.
Soon he was lying on Klaus's lap, fast asleep. Klaus continued to stroke Marcel's arm, staring down at his son's sleeping face as if in a trance, reminding himself of the same mantra that kept him sane two hundred years ago: As long as Marcellus was safe, he was doing the right thing.
"Dad," The soft sound of Hope's voice from the doorway drew Klaus's attention from Marcel.
"Hope, sweetheart, what are you doing awake?"
Hope shrugged and came further into the room, her body swaying groggily from side to side as she tottered in. A nightmarish dream of what that man may have done to Izzy woke her from her sleep. She was on her way to Hayley's room when she noticed the light on in her father's studio.
Klaus held his open arm out to her and Hope all but ran to it, burying her face against his chest as she cried.
Klaus squeezed her in his hold, shushing her as he planted soft kisses to the top of her head.
"Thank you," she mumbled through a sob. "F-for letting Izzy stay. I-I love you, daddy."
Klaus clasped his arm tighter around Hope, his heart swelling with joy. "I love you too, little wolf."
Hope sobbed against her father's chest until she cried herself to sleep.
Klaus relaxed against the sofa, holding both of his children in his arms as he stared at the painting of his childhood safe place. After becoming a vampire, with Mikael always on the hunt for him, Klaus feared that he would never feel as safe as he did underneath that tree. But with Marcel in one arm and Hope in the other, he realized that it wasn't the place that made him feel safe, it was the peace of mind. And as long as he knew his children were safe, his mind was at peace.
He shut his eyes, overcome with exhaustion, and drifted into a deathlike slumber.
