Kinda wanna take a break from the main plot for a while and just show the fam in some domestic situations for a while so, yeah. I'll let you guys know when I bring the focus back on the Mystic Falls crew and the Mikaelsons many other enemies.


Chapter 56

Flashback:

Marcel crept down the hall still sniffling back tears after being caught almost smoking in the garden with Sheldon Nilson. Elijah had sent him to fetch his books so they could begin his studies but Marcel couldn't fight the desire to spend just a minute with his poppa before he did.

"Poppa," he whispered, easing Niklaus's bedroom door open. He immediately shrunk back when he saw Klaus silently sleeping.

In eight centuries, Niklaus had never been a light sleeper, and in the year since he became a father, his instinct to wake at the slightest sound had only heightened. So before Marcel could grab the door handle and pull it shut, Klaus was sitting straight at attention.

"Marcellus," Klaus groggily came to. The first thing he noticed were the tears on little Marcellus' face. "What's wrong, son?"

Holding back sniffles, Marcel said, "I-I didn't mean to w-wake you, poppa. I-I'm sorry, I'll g-go."

"No, no, Marcellus," Klaus slung his legs over the bed and stood straight as if to convince Marcel that he wasn't really sleeping. "Come here."

Marcel ran to Klaus, hugging him around his waist. "I got a thrashing, poppa," he admitted before Klaus could encourage him to speak.

Niklaus lifted Marcel onto his hips, allowing the boy to wrap his arms around his neck and bury his face against the lapel of Klaus's shirt. He was so exhausted that he hadn't even bothered to strip down before drifting off but holding his crying son in his arms then, he knew it was meant to be. If he had gotten too comfortable, there may have been the slightest chance that he would've fallen too deep into slumber and missed the soft sound of Marcel's 'poppa' coming from the doorway.

"Poor, boy." Niklaus rubbed gentle circles against Marcel's back until his tears subsided. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Marcel knew Niklaus may be unhappy with knowing what he was about to do in the garden with Sheldon but he also knew that his father loved him and there wasn't anything he could say or do to change that. He was never afraid to tell his poppa of his misbehaviors like he was with Elijah because, in the year since he'd become a Mikaelson, Klaus had always forgiven him, choosing to wipe away his transgressions with a plethora of hugs and kisses.

"Sheldon brought his father's tobacco pipe with him and...we were gonna smoke some but then Uncle Elijah found us and...he-he smacked my bottom."

Klaus held Marcel closer but he couldn't find it himself to be angry at his brother.

"Elijah was right, Marcellus. You shouldn't smoke. Humans don't know it but tobacco taints your body. We can taste it in your blood. Wolves can smell it in your skin. It rots you."

"I-I didn't smoke none yet, poppa. I-I j-just wanted to try it."

"I don't want you ever to try it, Marcellus. It's bad. Once you start, it's hard to stop and when you finally do it may be too late. It will damage your body and send you to an early grave."

Marcel squeezed Klaus's neck, his heart pounding at the thought of death.

"I'm sorry," Klaus muttered, realizing he'd let his emotions get the best of him. "I don't like setting limits on what you can and can't do in life, Marcellus, but that is one thing I cannot abide by. I want you to be around for as long as you possibly can and I want you to stay pure and good, do you understand me?"

"Yes, poppa."

Klaus pulled Marcel back a bit so he was looking into his son's red, watery eyes. "I'm sorry for scaring you. How about I make amends by taking you to the lake to go fishing?"

Marcel shook his head no. "It's time for my studies. We're starting a new story today."

The excitement that lit Marcel's eyes as he spoke about learning brought a smile to Klaus's face. With a chuckle, he set the boy back down to his feet and guided him out the room and down the hall. "Then we probably shouldn't chance it. Wouldn't want Elijah coming to thrash me for not taking your studies as seriously as the two of you."

Marcel's face lit up with shock. "Uncle Elijah thrashes you?"

"In the way that brothers do. We...tussle a bit until one of us gives in."

Niklaus underexaggerated the extent of the fights he often finds himself in with Elijah for Marcel's sake. The boy had thankfully never been privy to one and Klaus hoped he never would. His fights with Elijah often brought out a primal side of him that he feared only his siblings could understand and he didn't want Marcel to fear or hate him after seeing him like that.

"Can I have a brother to tussle with?"

Klaus laughed at Marcel's brazen question. Dismissively patting his head, Klaus said, "Not in this lifetime, son. You're more than enough for me."

"But...what if you have one like I was born. An accident."

It crushed Klaus to hear Marcel refer to himself as an accident when he thought of the boy as a blessing but Klaus knew in the end, that was true.

As they entered the kitchen, Klaus immediately went for the fresh pie sitting on the cooling rack by the window.

"That's not a concern," he said, cutting himself and Marcel two large pieces. "Vampires cannot procreate that way. There will be no accidents." Klaus slid Marcel a steaming slice of pie with a small fork lying on the side of the glass plate. "You are my everything, Marcellus. And all that I will ever need."

End Flashback

Klaus's eyes fluttered open to Elijah standing over him, carefully tucking a blanket around Klaus's shoulders. He glanced down to see Marcel and Hope still sleeping soundly on both sides of his lap, both of them now wrapped in blankets of their own.

"Go back to sleep, brother," Elijah ordered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I contemplated not doing it at all, knowing how light a sleeper you are, but there was a chill in the air."

"Seeing as how I'm awake now." Klaus reached to pull the blanket from his shoulders but was paused by a sharp glare from Elijah.

"Three more hours," Elijah stated conclusively. "And not a second sooner."

With a snarl, Klaus laid back against the sofa, still too tired to argue about whether he was tired or not.

Satisfied, Elijah began his march back to the door.

"Thank you," said Klaus, pausing Elijah in his steps. "For letting Marcellus sleep."

Elijah smiled over his shoulder. "He is as disobedient and stubborn as his father but...his heart is in the right place. I cannot punish him for that."

Elijah shut the studio door behind him as he left. As he made his way the library, he decided to first check-in on Izzy and Oliver. He opened the door slowly, peering in to see Izzy still sleeping in her bed with her back to the door but the whimpering came from across the room in Oliver's bed.

Oliver had his blanket pulled up over his head stifling his crying and if Elijah's ears weren't so keen to the sound of a sniffling child, he almost wouldn't have heard him himself.

"Oliver," he whispered, coming further into the room.

Oliver shot his hand over his mouth hoping to quiet his crying even more.

Elijah knelt by the boy's bed and whispered, "Oliver, what's wrong?"

The boy peeped out from his blanket at his sister across the room. He felt a breath of relief at seeing her still soundly asleep.

Turning his attention to Elijah, Oliver shushed him and said, "You're gonna wake Izzy."

Standing, Elijah held his hand out to the boy and said, "Come with me. Let's talk outside so we don't wake her."

With a nod, Oliver took Elijah's hand and tiptoed out of the room, sliding the door slightly closed behind them as they continued down the hall.

"Now will you tell me what's wrong?" asked Elijah. "Why were you crying?"

Oliver stared down at his feet. "Promise you won't be mad?"

"I promise."

Staring up at him with wide, watery eyes, Oliver muttered, "M-my tummy hurts."

"Did you eat something you're not supposed to?"

Oliver shook his head no. Tears breached the corners of his eyes as his voice strained, "It's hungry."

Elijah's stomach dropped. He lifted Oliver onto his hip and picked up the speed of his walk.

"Why didn't you wake Izzy?"

"Last time I told her I was hungry...she went to get food and...and they took her away because she didn't pay for it." Oliver rested his head against Elijah's shoulder as the Original carried him downstairs to the kitchen. "I don't want her to know when I'm hungry no more because I don't want them to take her no more."

"No one is taking her anywhere, Oliver." Elijah sat the boy on a stool at the counter as he went to the fridge and grabbed a container of fresh strawberries. "You are both staying right here until you're ready to leave on your own. And there will always be more than enough food for you in this house. You never need to go hungry."

Oliver dug into the bowl of strawberries with reckless abandon. Elijah cringed as the boy covered himself in red juices but he kept his misgivings to himself. Instead, he distracted himself by chopping as many different fruits and veggies as they had in the fridge, offering each of them to Oliver individually to see which ones he would eat without prompting and which he flat out refused. It disappointed Elijah to find the number of which he would eat was significantly smaller than what he refused. Most of which were vegetables.

"You have to learn to eat vegetables, Oliver. You can't survive on sweets alone."

"I don't like them," Oliver stated definitely. "And Izzy said I don't have to eat what I don't want to."

Grabbing the bowl of strawberries in front of Oliver, Elijah replaced them with a plate of celery sticks and a small cup of peanut butter.

"I'm afraid the rules are a bit different now that you're living with the Mikaelsons, my dear boy. Here, you will eat what is good for you, even if you don't want it."

Oliver folded his arms over his chest and glared down at the celery. "But I don't want it."

"You're not getting any more strawberries until you eat it."

"But...you said I won't have to be hungry no more."

Elijah sighed. "There is food right in front of you, Oliver. Eat it and you won't be hungry."

Oliver continued to pout but Elijah refused to give in. Feeling as if he had no other choice, Oliver finally picked up a celery stick and bit reluctantly into it. He'd never had celery before and was surprised and intrigued by the stringiness.

"Try it with the peanut butter," Elijah insisted, hoping that adding one of his favorite foods to one of his least favorite would make it even more enjoyable to him.

Oliver scooped up a glob of peanut butter at the end of the celery and his eyes lit with delight. He went through the entire plate in minutes.

Being a man of his words, Elijah gave Oliver the bowl of strawberries back when the celery was gone and the toddler demolished them with even more gusto, coating his fingers and face in red strawberry juice.

With a huff, Elijah ran the corner of a washcloth under the sink, dampening the end before he marched over to the boy, wiping the red coating from his face and fingers.

"You must learn to eat properly," Elijah gently scolded. "It won't do having you drenched in the juices of whatever food you're eating after every meal."

Oliver scrunched his mouth into a tight pucker as he pulled his face away from Elijah's thorough towel. "But Izzy says-"

"I'm sure your sister is full of priceless wisdom, young Oliver, and, while I am but a mere bystander in this walk of anarchic independence you're on, as long as you're living under this roof, I am afraid you must follow my rules. Do you understand?"

"But...that's not fair. I just wanna do what I wanna do."

Elijah chuckled as he lifted Oliver from the stool and carried him out of the kitchen on his hip. "I'm afraid the days of doing what you want are long behind you for the time being. We will readdress the subject in, say...twenty years or so."

Oliver continued to pout in anger but he didn't fight against Elijah. It wasn't often that he was held. His mother barely held him at all and his foster parents never did. Only Izzy held him. And now the Mikaelsons. It was a strange, yet calming feeling, being held.

"And from now on, there will always be plenty of healthy fruits and vegetables in the bottom draws of the fridge for you to snack on in between meals, Oliver. If you're ever hungry, doesn't matter the time of day or night, you are free to eat from there."

With a soft yawn, Oliver laid his head gently against Elijah's shoulder. "You won't ever be mad?" he whispered. "Even if I eat too much."

Elijah looked down into Oliver's eyes, guilt gripping his heart as he imagined what sort of homes the boy must've lived in if he felt that was even a question ever needed to be asked.

"Never," Elijah swore.

Elijah brought Oliver back to his shared room and put the boy back in bed.

"But I'm not tired," Oliver whined, refusing to lie back in bed.

"You sure? Judging by your attitude, it seems you could use a few more hours of rest."

"I'm not!" Oliver kicked his blanket in a never-ending series of flutter kicks until it fell off the side of the bed.

Elijah simply picked up the blanket, folded it neatly at the end of the bed, and said, "Whether you like it or not, you're going to spend the next few hours in this bed. You can spend it sleeping or you can spend it pouting," Elijah walked over to the desk by the door and took a seat. "But you're not getting out of that bed until I say so."

Oliver sat in bed, tears of frustration pooling in his eyes, and glared at Elijah. Elijah wouldn't budge.

As Oliver's resolve weakened, the boy slowly fell back into bed, fighting against his tired eyes as they sealed themselves shut.

Once the boy was asleep, Elijah unfolded the blanket and draped it across him.

As the blanket fanned in the air before drifting down onto Oliver's shoulders, Izzy woke.

She shot up at the sight of the person moving through her peripheral but calmed once she recognized Elijah. She gripped her side as a shooting pain exploded through her ribs.

"Does it hurt still?" Elijah asked, making his way over to the girl's bedside.

Izzy slightly nodded. "I...just need to stretch it out a bit. I'll be fine."

Holding his arm tentatively out to her, Elijah said, "I know you witches tend to think of our blood as a crime against nature but...if you drink, you will be through with this pain."

Izzy laughed. She hadn't agreed with the witches in a long time.

"The Quarter witches abandon their own when they need them most. What do they know about what's natural?" Raising her clouded dark eyes to Elijah, she asked, "You were a witch once, weren't you? Hope said you all were witches before you became vampires."

Unsure where her question was leading, Elijah said, "I was. Once. A long time ago."

"Has your life been any worse since becoming a vampire? You get to live forever. You're stronger than almost everyone. You're not bound to one spot because of Ancestral magic. And...you get to make your own family. It must be...freeing to be a vampire."

Elijah pulled his wrist away from Izzy, no longer so willing to share his blood with her. "There's nothing wrong with being a witch, Izzy. You are a part of the most powerful species on the planet. And the New Orleans witches are some of the most prominent witches in history."

"I don't care about prominence or power! I just want to be a part of something...permanent." Her gaze fell to Oliver sleeping across from her. "I'm tired of having it all ripped away from us. For once I just want to wake up every day knowing nothing and no one is going to take him away from me. And I want...a family that won't just pack a bag in the middle of the night and leave without even a goodbye."

As Izzy confessed her feelings to him, Elijah felt a pang of guilt shoot through him. He finally realized what Marcel must've truly felt when they left him behind more than a century ago. It wasn't intentional, they thought he was dead, but still, to be a young vampire, coddled by his family the way Marcel was back then, and then just abandoned without notice after being tortured by Mikael...there was no reason for Marcel to trust them upon their return.

"Let's hold off on the vampire blood for now," Elijah insisted, placing his hand carefully against Izzy's shoulders, guiding Izzy back down to her pillow. "I think I have another idea. Why don't you just rest for a little while longer and when you wake, everything will be fine."

Flashback:

Rebekah was lucky to find her most irritating older brother in his bedroom preparing to tear out in the night. She'd hoped to find him before he'd left. In the year since Marcel had been living with them, Kol had barely said two words to him. It didn't help that he was always leaving to find entertainment in the city whenever Marcel had a free second away from his studies or from Klaus's attention.

"Kol," she cunningly sang. "Big brother, where are you off to this afternoon?"

Kol's eyes narrowed at her question. His little sister only ever inquired about his goings-on for two reasons: She wanted something or she was in the mind to tattle.

"Why?"

"Well, Klaus, Marcellus, Elijah, and I were going to take a little family picnic down by the lake. Thought you'd care to join us."

Kol sighed, examining his perfectly folded tie in the mirror. "Elijah already asked and I already said no. You lot know I don't do 'family picnics'. Far too tedious, this, playing at a loving, united family now that this boy is here. When have we ever been united, dear sister?"

"In the many times you've had a friend stripped from your grasp at the hand of our father on his rampage, who has been there to mend your broken pieces?"

Kol rolled his eyes knowing Rebekah expected him to answer 'Klaus'. Instead, he growled, "And how many of those friends have Klaus stripped from me himself?"

"I do not maintain that our brother is innocent but this child is. He is learning to trust us, to call us his family, but it seems the closer he tries to get to you, the more you push him away."

Kol spun on his heels and strolled to the door. "Because I don't want to be his family or his friend. That boy is a fleeting affix to this family. Humans are fragile and temporary. Why are you all wasting your time?"

"He's not temporary," Rebekah called behind as Kol marched past her. "He is family."

Kol exited the Compound with a smile on his face, ready to go out and cause mischief through the city when he smelt the distinct scent of rotten apples in the air. He paused beneath the awning at the front door as the stable caretaker walked by the door pulling a horse beside him. He tipped his hat to Kol. Suddenly, a rotten apple fell from the sky just barely missing the man. The caretaker looked up to the sky but saw nothing.

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "It's raining apples."

"I doubt it," Kol grunted. He sped away from the caretaker and up to the roof.

Marcel nearly pushed over the basket of rotten apples sitting on the ledge of the roof at Kol's sudden appearance.

"I've heard of mana falling from the sky but I can't quite remember reading anything in all my years about apples dropping from heaven."

"K-Kol," Marcel stammered as he stood in front of the basket attempting to hide the proof of his guilt.

Kol raised an eyebrow, sure the boy was too smart to think him so dumb.

Marcel's eyes dropped to his feet. "It was just playing a trick," he mumbled. "The apples are all really rotten so they wouldn't hurt if they hit someone. I just thought it'd be amusing." His hands falling behind his back, he looked up to Kol with desperate eyes. "But don't tell Uncle Elijah. He-he may not find it as humorous."

Kol walked over to the basket of fruit and grabbed one. It was soft and slimy to the touch. It certainly wouldn't hurt but it would cause a person's hair to stink for a day or two if they got caught by one.

Kol chuckled at the thought. A smile came across Marcel's face as well.

"Interesting," said Kol, tossing the apple over the roof and wiping the excess juice on the side of the basket. "You think of this all yourself?"

Marcel nodded with pride. "Been hiding apples for weeks."

"How did you keep Elijah from finding them?"

"Hid them in the stables. Uncle Elijah hardly ever goes there. He doesn't like the smell."

"A clever boy. No wonder my brother keeps you around. But...if you want to cause some real mischief, you're going about it the wrong way." He sat his hand on Marcel's shoulder and guided him to the ladder leading down to the ground. "Trust me, lad. I'm the true Master of Mischief and if you really wanna have some fun at the expense of humans, I know just the way. You're an aficionado of Shakespeare, correct?"

End Flashback

-M-

Elijah waited patiently outside of the church sanctuary after knocking with enough gusto to wake the dead. Vincent appeared seconds later, a heavy scowl on his face.

"I should've known," he growled. "Could've been nobody but a Mikaelson trying to knock the door off the dang hinges."

"I do apologize," said Elijah, feigning sincerity. "But I seem to have a problem only you can solve."

Vincent waved his hand in denial, slowly closing the door as he uttered, "I don't get into Mikaelson business anymore."

Ejiah jammed his foot within the door before it closed. "It's not for me that I am asking. There is a girl staying in the Compound, a young New Orleans witch, who needs a mentor. I feel you are most suited for the position."

Opening the door again, Vincent said, "What's a New Orleans witch doing at your Compound?"

"A friend of Hope's. You may have heard of her. Izzy Jarreau."

Vincent stood out on the sidewalk beside Elijah, closing the door to the sanctuary to keep the identity of his people secret.

"Yeah, I've heard of her. Heard about how she nearly killed a kid with a bat."

"Come now, Vincent. Even the best of us have attempted murder for the sake of family honor."

Vincent smirked. "Your sister didn't want to take her under her wing?"

"My sister isn't a New Orleans witch. You are."

"Since when does one need to be a New Orleans witch to be a mentor to one?"

"The girl is starting to hate her own people," Elijah stated plainly. "I fear she will do something she will regret if she isn't shown kindness by another New Orleans witch."

Vincent was silent as he contemplated what Elijah was implying about the girl. "The last confused witch I took under my wing was Davina. And we all see how that ended."

"Well," Elijah turned and started walking away, sure he'd done his part to convince Vincent. "Let's hope you've mastered the art of mentoring since then. I will send the girl to you this afternoon. Send her back before dinner."

"I didn't say yes," Vincent yelled.

"You didn't say no either."

Vincent glared at Elijah's back but said nothing. He'd dedicated his life to protecting supernatural beings too weak to protect themselves and despite Izzy's reputation, she was still just a girl who needed help.

-M-

Marcel woke to Klaus gently shaking his shoulder. As his eyes fluttered open, he glanced across to see him doing the same to Hope.

"Wake up, you two," came their father's soft voice. "It's time for breakfast."

Marcel sat up, stretching his arms out over his head with a yawn. And then he noticed something. Or rather, a lack of something.

The pain that cursed him over the last day had vanished.

Klaus smiled as he saw the realization hit Marcellus but neither of them mentioned it as Hope began to stir awake.

"How did you sleep," asked Niklaus.

Marcel stood, stretching his body in all angels. "I could ask you the same."

"I slept great." Hope jumped to her feet, a wide smile on her face. "I'm going to see how Izzy slept."

"Not so fast," Klaus barked, pausing the girl before she could dart out of the room. "There are some things we need to discuss in regards to this new living arrangement, young lady."

Hope's eyes shot curiously over to Marcel, wondering if he knew what Klaus was going to say but Marcel was a bit unsure himself. Klaus certainly had changed since he was a boy. Their father wouldn't have even let Marcel's crushes come over for playdates, let alone live with them, and yet here they were, in uncertain territory.

Klaus stood, looming over Hope as he spoke. "While Izzy is a guest here, you two will not be alone behind any closed doors. There will be no inappropriate touching or kissing of any kind. Do I make myself clear?"

Hope burned from her hairline down to her neck, turning red all over with shame. "DAD!"

"I mean it, Hope," Klaus bit, his stone face unwavering.

"Okay," she muttered through the choke of embarrassment gripping her throat.

Klaus placed his hand under her chin, lifting her face up to his as he stared her in the eyes. "I am sympathetic to your friend. I can't imagine what she's been through. But this is not ana invitation for you two to grow whatever...relationship you have. If I find out you've done anything I deem inappropriate with her - and trust that I will find out, I have eyes everywhere - I will not hesitate to spank you where you stand. Even if it is in front of your little friend."

Hope wrang her hands together, a wash of emotions filling her as tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes. She never thought she could be so embarrassed but in that moment, while her father threatened to spank her in front of her crush for exhibiting emotions she wasn't entirely sure of yet while her older brother stood behind, probably considering the same thing, she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the Earth and never seen again.

"Go." Klaus released Hope's chin, his heartbreaking at seeing his daughter so hopeless. "Check on your friend. But don't be late for breakfast."

Hope sped out of the studio, more than happy to disappear from her father's heated gaze.

"You should have a reality show," Marcel said sarcastically. "How to Make a Teenage Girl Cry in 60 Seconds or Less."

"That long, eh. I must be losing my touch." Klaus started walking towards the door and as he passed by Marcel, he gave him a light tap on his thigh, just barely missing his behind. "Come, let's get down to breakfast before Elijah feels inclined to warm your behind again."

Marcel gave a mocking laugh as he followed behind Klaus. "That's not funny. I hope to never have to endure that again."

"I hope you never give us reason to put you through that again."

Elijah has the dining table covered in an array of breakfast foods. The overwhelming aroma of hot baked biscuits and buttery pastries engulfed the room. He and Hayley were still in the kitchen doing some final preparations on when Klaus and Marcel entered the dining room to find Oliver standing on his toes in a chair, stretching as far as he could to get to the tray of beignets sitting in the center of the table. He unintentionally pulled on the table clothe with his knee as he stretched across, ignorantly pulling the food lining the outside of the table closer to the edge.

"Whoa, there." Marcel lifted the boy into his arms and sat him back down on the chair.

Niklaus went to the other side of the table and, with a heavy sigh, pulled the table cloth so that the meal was properly centered on the table.

"The lad must have a death wish," he muttered. "Or he doesn't know Elijah very well."

Oliver pouted, throwing himself back against the chair. He knew Elijah very well. Elijah put the tray of beignets in the center of the table with the exclusive purpose of keeping them out of the boy's reach.

Without a second thought, Marcel reached onto the tray of beignets and grabbed two, one for Oliver and one for himself.

Oliver tore into the sweet treat like a ravenous chipmunk, biting off small chunks and storing them in his cheeks before biting into it again.

"Swallow," Klaus cautioned. "If you die from choking on a beignet Elijah may never make them again and they are my favorite breakfast treat."

Oliver swallowed the food in his cheeks all in one go and then held out his hands for another beignet.

"Let's get some breakfast in you first." Marcel grabbed a serving spoon and began dishing out small samples of everything onto the boy's plate, unsure what exactly he'd eat.

When Elijah entered the dining room carrying a platter of freshly cut fruit, the first thing he noticed was the white powder covering Oliver's cheeks. He cut his eyes at Klaus and Marcel, knowing one of them had to have given it to him.

"If you're going to sneak him treats, at least have the decency to clean him up afterward."

Marcel chuckled, grabbing a cloth napkin from the table and dusting the beignet evidence from Oliver's cheeks.

Hope and Izzy came strolling into the room next, Hope making desperate attempts to avoid making eye contact with her father after being so thoroughly embarrassed by him that morning. And then came Rebekah, wrapping herself in Marcel's hold and kissing him as if the few hours they were apart was a lifetime. Kol and Davina entered moments later followed by Freya.

"Finn on his way down soon?" Elijah asked, taking his seat between Hayley and Oliver.

Freya unfolded her napkin neatly across her lap, restraining her growing anger at her siblings for the sake of the children at the table. "Finn will be sitting this meal out."

"Oh. I didn't realize we'd decided that."

"I decided," she bit, narrowing her eyes at Elijah. Her gaze fell to Kol. "After everything that happened yesterday, I feel he'd be better missing a few family gatherings for the time being."

Noting the intense look to which Freya glared at Kol, Elijah knew there was something more to what happened the night before than what he thought.

"We will discuss it later?" He asked.

"At length," Freya responded.

Kol stared down at his plate, a knot tightening in his belly at the thought of Finn telling Freya what he'd done to him the day before and having Freya angry at him for it.

"How are you feeling, Izzy?" asked Elijah.

Izzy shrugged, unsure how to say that her soreness had deepened but she knew from experience that it would get worse before it got better.

Noting the girl's stiff movements, Freya said, "I have an elixir you can take to reduce the swelling."

"No thank you," Izzy quickly answered. "I don't really want anything to do with magic anymore."

"You're a witch. Magic is a part of who you are."

"What if I don't want to be a witch anymore."

All eyes fell to Izzy. No one knew what to say. Even Hope was shocked. She couldn't imagine who she'd be with her magic.

"It's who you are," said Elijah. "You can't just give it up."

"I could become a vampire."

"Out of the question," said Klaus to everyone's surprise. "You're a sixteen-year-old girl. Being an adolescent vampire is a hardship you don't want to have to face."

"I've faced a lot of hardships already in my life. I think I can handle one more."

Elijah dabbed his mouth with his napkin and calmly said, "Unfortunately, in this household, sixteen-year-olds don't get a lot in the way of choices in such matters. What you do have a choice in, is meeting with Vincent Griffith this afternoon."

"The witch?"

"Yes. He's willing to take you under his wing as your mentor."

"I know enough magic. I don't need a teacher."

"He's to teach you more than just magic, but also, what it means to be a New Orleans witch."

Izzy had heard about Vincent, every witch in New Orleans had. He hosted a sanctuary for those seeking asylum from supernatural foes. She thought about going to him when her mother first left but since she and Oliver weren't on the run from a mystical beast, she feared he would send them away or, worse, call the authorities.

But she also knew that the covens didn't like him because he rejected them, deciding to become a Master of his own without the rules of the coven. She thought he may just be the only witch in New Orleans who hated the covens as much as she.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll meet with him. But as soon as I turn eighteen, I'm gonna turn."

Klaus let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "You make this life look too glamourous, Elijah. These children truly never know what they're getting themselves into." Staring across at Izzy, he could tell by the unwavering focus in her eyes that she was determined to go through with turning despite what they thought. Still, he'd known enough young vampires in his life to know how things would end if she turned too soon. "Let's agree on 25."

"25? That's too far away."

"The fact that you think that is exactly why I believe you should wait. The part of your brain responsible for making rational decisions isn't fully developed until you're 25. Most vampires who turn young do make it to 50. You should take my siblings as an example of this rule. Naive, impulsive...stupid." Rebekah and Kol cut their eyes angrily at Klaus but their older brother continued as if they should've known the facts he espoused. "They were lucky enough to be Originals. But there are exceptions to every rule."

"That's too long. I-I can't wait nine years."

"In the end, it is ultimately your choice. But, if you care about protecting your brother, or about protecting yourself, you will listen to me. And wait."

As breakfast continued, Marcel noticed a growing muttered conversation happening between Kol and Davina. Since Rebekah sat between him and Kol, he contemplated ignoring their conversation so as not to seem more focused on them than her but then he heard his name.

"Everything alright over there?" he asked.

Before Kol could reply with a lie, Davina answered, "There's a fair in Algiers today. We were gonna go with Josh and Kol was wondering if you'd like to come with us but he's too afraid to ask."

Marcel's once furrowed eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead, shocked by Davina's claim.

"I didn't say I wanted you to come," Kol quickly corrected. "I said...Josh being your friend, and all, you'd probably be interested in tagging along."

"What a charming invitation," Rebekah smirked.

Marcel couldn't help but smile as Kol rolled his eyes in embarrassment.

"I'm coming too," said Hope, nearly bouncing out of her seat. She immediately whipped out her phone and began texting Sebastian about their plans. A fair would be no fun without him by her side.

"Sure," Marcel agreed. "I'll come. I was planning to check in on Lora today anyway. She'd probably enjoy a fair after being cooped up in the apartment for the past few days."

"Lora?" Klaus repeated in confusion, and then as if just hitting him, he said, "Ah, one of the young vampires you sired behind my back. One survived this long? I'm impressed. Though, I suppose since she has no natural enemies in the city thanks to my banishing them all away, you have me to thank for that."

Rebekah rolled her eyes as she stood, grabbing Marcel's and her empty plates. "It always starts out as such a good morning, doesn't it. And then he has to go an open that big mouth."

Klaus smirked at his sister's glib response until he noticed the glower on Marcel's face. "My apologies. I forget how attached you get to those you sire."

"Don't all vampires?" asked Izzy.

Klaus sat back in his seat, examining the girl and her response and tried to determine whether she was mature enough to hear the truth. But then, considering her plans for the future, he knew it was better if she found out sooner rather than later.

"No, not always. Sometimes, a sireling is simply a means to an end. Sometimes they're accidents." His gaze fell to Marcel as he said, "It is only when you're forced to turn someone you love that you become attached."

Izzy stared down at the table. She feared that since no one truly loved her, even if she were to find a vampire to turn her, she would still be left alone.

"Okay you," Rebekah came back to the dining room and lifted Oliver onto her hip, smiling at the boy covered in sticky fruit juices. "Let's go get you cleaned up before we go."

"You're taking Oliver," Izzy asked, her heart pounding with anxiety.

"Only if it's okay with you," answered Rebekah. "Since you're going to be Vincent this afternoon, little Ollie would be bored here all afternoon with Klaus and Elijah." Bending closer to Izzy's ear, Rebekah playfully whispered, "In case you haven't noticed, they are not the most entertaining Mikaelsons."

"I heard that," Klaus bit. "And I can be fun, dear sister. Simply not around toddlers."

"Or teenagers," Davina mumbled eliciting a chuckle from Kol.

"Or vampires for that much," Kol whispered back.

A little nervous to have Oliver so far away from her, but trusting the Mikaelsons, Izzy answered, "H-he can go. But...have him back before dinner."

Rebekah brushed Izzy's chin with an endearing smile. "As you wish, little miss."

-M-

After breakfast, Freya escorted Elijah back to her workshop where Finn sat reading through old grimoires. Not being able to do magic did not stop him from still finding enjoyment in studying it. But when Elijah entered the room, Finn went from wide-eyed and curious to tense and on edge.

"What is he doing here?" he asked, standing at attention so as not to be caught off guard by his brother.

Freya closed the door behind them, calmly answering, "He's here to talk."

"I have nothing to say to him. It's clear who's side he's on."

"There are no sides here, little brother. We are a family. We're all in this together."

"What is this about?" Elijah finally asked. "Why didn't you show up to breakfast?"

"Why should I have?" Finn bit. "So you and Kol can take turns making my life miserable?"

Elijah sighed, finally understanding why Finn called himself angry.

"I believe we have some sort of misunderstanding. Me sending you from the table last night was not done vindictively, whereas simply as a way to keep the peace. I knew Kol would have thrown a fit about it and assumed you were more mature. Apparently, I was wrong."

Immediately coming to her little brother's side, Freya said, "If you'd bothered to find out what was going on between them before you sent him away, you would understand why he's upset."

"I didn't have to find out what happened. I can surmise. Finn and Kol have been at outs since Finn's return. My guess is that Kol did something particularly cruel to Finn and your favorite little brother did something just as cruel to Kol."

"I did nothing to him," Finn bellowed, tears biting the corners of his eyes. "I haven't done anything to him since my return and yet Kol continues to torment me. And his little friend, Marcellus, is always right there, ready to join in on the fun. And I can't do anything to either of them in retaliation because if I even raise a hand, or bare a fang, I will be punished."

Elijah folded his arms over his chest, his eyes tensing at Finn's accusations. "If Kol has hurt you then you need only to say the word. He and Marcel have been warned not to harm you. I have punished them for it once and I will not hesitate to do so again."

Finn stared silently at the floor. He didn't know what to say. Neither Kol nor Marcel harmed him physically, which was what he was sure Elijah meant. He didn't think Elijah would take his claims seriously if he knew that their only crime was 'being mean'.

"It's nothing," he muttered. "Never mind. I don't care anymore. I just...I won't eat with them anymore and you can't make me. I don't want to be trapped in the same room with them ever again if I can help it."

Elijah let out a heavy sigh. "If you can't tell me how they've harmed you, I can't help you."

"Then don't. I don't need your help. I can take care of myself on my own just like I always have."

Elijah turned on his heels and walked calmly to the exit. "I will not beg you to allow me to help. But you would do best, older brother, to remember the power of family and learn to rely on us whenever you need help." Before shutting the door behind, Elijah peered into the room at Finn and said, "And in case you are entertaining any thoughts of revenge against Kol or Marcellus, I would strongly advise you reconsider."

Finn glared at Elijah, frustrated that his younger brother, the boy he once taught magic to, had the audacity to leave him with a warning.


Wrote a lot of this on my phone while traveling so sometimes the auto-swipe function fucks up and types 'your' instead of 'you're' and I didn't realize it until I did my re-read. Think I've found all of them but don't hate me if you see one :D