Unedited, sorry *sad face*

Chapter 76

Klaus didn't complain when Elijah volunteered to finish lunch. He was sure he would've ruined another good piece of deer meat anyway. And, Marcel had yet to stop sniffling in his arms though he also refused to go back to sleep.

Finn sat on the sofa in silence, chancing occasional glances at Klaus and Marcel and trying to not remember the time he spent in Elijah's arms after his spanking. He smiled whenever he looked up at Kol, still in the corner serving the full extent of his hour-long punishment. He still wished his annoying younger brother would have gotten spanked instead, but the corner was humiliating and so he would have to revel in that for now.

"You said," Marcel muttered softly against Klaus's collar bone where his tear-drenched face now rested. "Th-That...y-you would take me home if th-this...was too much."

Klaus glanced down to his tearful son, the young vampire's gaze focused on the fire burning in the hearth rather than meet his father's gaze.

"Is it too much?" Klaus asked.

Marce bit his lip. He snuggled closer to Klaus's neck, keeping his voice low in case Kol or Finn were eavesdropping. "I can't take another spanking, Klaus. It...it hurts."

Klaus sighed, running a hand up and down Marcel's arm in hopes of easing the hitches caught in his son's chest.

"Behave," Klaus warned. "And you won't have to."

"It's not fair," Marcel's voice rose. "I hate this trip. All we've done is-is...get our asses beat. I didn't even get to go hunting with you."

Klaus chuckled. "Well, hunting was never really the point of this trip, it never is. Kol."

Kol jumped as Klaus called his name. He was listening in on their conversation but he didn't think he'd get in trouble for it since he was still facing the wall after all.

"Please remind Marcellus of the point of the hunting trips."

Kol's shoulders relaxed at the order. "To beat our asses," he mumbled in response.

"Kol," Klaus said warningly.

Rolling his eyes, Kol said in a loud and clear voice, as if it were a sentence he had to repeat dozens of times throughout the centuries, "To remind us of our place in the family and correct any relapses in misbehavior."

Klaus smiled proudly at Kol's speech. "Thank you, brother."

"I know my place," Marcel grumbled. "I am to be King." Turning his head up to Klaus, his brows tense between his eyes, he said, "I should be King now."

Klaus was unfazed by his son's irritable mood. "You will be King when I decide you're ready."

Marcel's eyes narrowed as he pulled away from Klaus. "Were you ever really going to make me King? When I was human, you promised it to me my entire childhood but I was with you for a century, Klaus, and you never stepped down. If I'd stayed human, would you'd just let me grow old and die a Prince?"

Klaus's face turned hard at the accusation. "I suppose we'll never know because you will never grow old now, will you? Forced to be forever a teenage boy."

Marcel jumped from his father's lap to his feet, his nose flaring in anger. "I didn't shoot myself, Klaus," he barked.

Klaus stood, staring his angry son in the eyes as she said, "No. But you didn't give me a choice in saving your life, either. 'Turn me, or let me die.' Isn't that what you said? I could have healed you. I could have given you a chance at manhood, of having a family, but you choose this life, Marcellus."

"I am a man," Marcel barked, beating his fists against his broad chest as if to prove a point.

"You are nineteen," Klaus bellowed back. Shaking his head in disappointment, he said, "I was supposed to keep you alive. That was my number one task after becoming your father. Keep you alive, safe, and well. But I failed in less than a decade." Sitting back down in his chair, he said, "I failed you, Marcellus. But it will not happen again. You will be King when I decide you're ready. When I decide...that a petulant 19-year-old has matured enough to run a Kingdom on his own. If that could ever be the case."

"That's bullshit, Klaus, and you know it!"

"What I know, Marcellus," All eyes turned to Elijah standing in the kitchen doorway, drying his hands off on a dishtowel as if he'd come into the room prepared to handle business. "Is that you claim to have had enough and yet, it seems to me that you could still use a bit more. Kol."

Kol quickly turned back to the corner before Elijah could remind him.

"That is the second time, brother," Elijah said nonchalantly, causing a shiver to shot down Kol's spine. "If there is a third, you will get a dose of what Marcel is so fervently petitioning for."

Kol wanted to groan and complain that it was hard to keep his eyes on the corner with everything going on behind him but he thought better than it. Marcel was throwing enough of a fit for both of them.

Marcel gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream 'Stay out of this, Elijah. This has nothing to do with you.' But the throbbing pain on his backside convinced him to stay silent. He kept his eyes locked with Elijah's though, the fire within them challenging the Original with the words he wouldn't allow himself to say.

"I've got this, Elijah," Klaus said, standing between Elijah and Marcel.

"You sure, brother?" Elijah slung the damp dishcloth over his shoulder. He stared dubiously into Klaus's eyes as if he doubted his brother had the fortitude to deal with Marcel's current attitude.

Niklaus glanced back to Marcel and said, "Yes, I believe we are ready to sit and discuss things like mature adults. Isn't that right Marcellus?"

A huff of indignation flared through Marcel's nostrils but he slumped into the armchair anyway, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared ahead, refusing to look at Klaus or Elijah.

Turning back to the door, Elijah said over his shoulder, "Be grateful that your father decided to accompany us on this trip, Marcellus. If it were just the four of us, you would be a chronically sore young man."

As Elijah disappeared back into the kitchen, Niklaus turned to Marcel. He placed both hands against the chair's armrests and leaned forward so that he was staring into his son's eyes and Marcel stared back, his own eyes hard and refusing to release their anger. He expected Klaus to try to compel him again and he was furious at the thought but Klaus didn't try to compel him this time.

"You want me to believe you're mature enough to be King, stop throwing tantrums when things don't go your way."

Marcel blew a huff of air through his nose and looked away from Klaus. He wanted to argue that he wasn't having a tantrum but a part of him knew that he was and he was angrier at himself for it than anyone. He'd never felt more childish.

"Find a corner," Klaus suddenly ordered as he stood straight.

Marcel cut his eyes up at his father knowing the man was expecting him to argue about such an immature punishment but he didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Marcel threw himself from the chair and marched over to the corner opposite Kol.

"For how long?" He bit as he positioned himself between the wall and fireplace.

"Until you calm down," Klaus retorted firmly.

Marcel spun around in anger at the vague response.

"Face the wall," Klaus growled.

Marcel's eyes narrowed, daring Klaus to take action against his disobedience but Klaus didn't move. He couldn't. He thought about the pain in Marcel's voice as he cried after his last spanking and knew that he couldn't bear to hear it again.

The sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen reminded Marcel that Klaus was the easier of the two patriarchs to deal with and he slowly - to save face - turned back to the corner.

Kol leaned slightly back to see Marcel behind the fireplace mantle and said in a mocking whisper, "Welcome to the party, mate."

"Kol." Klaus's steely call caused his brother to snap back into place but then he said nothing else. Klaus knew the warning would suffice for now. After Kol's heartfelt emotional exposure and his harrowing experience with the switch, his little brother had become far more docile and agreeable than Klaus had seen him in a long time. For some reason, Klaus dreaded the thought of inflicting pain on Kol almost as much as he did the thought of spanking Marcel again.

Sitting back in the chair, Klaus leaned over the armrest, pressing his chin against his balled fist as he stared at Marcel's back, tense as the young vampire stood with his arms crossed over his chest. "You are going to be the death of my sanity," he muttered to no one in particular.

Kol's hour was up just as Elijah came out to tell everyone lunch was ready.

"Finally," Kol said, stretching his arms above his head as he turned to leave the corner. "I was getting stiff over here."

As Marcel turned to leave his corner, Klaus said, "Not you."

Marcel met his father's eyes with fury on his face but Klaus wasn't bothered by it.

"Marcellus," Elijah's voice drew Marcel's irritable stare up to his Uncle. Without a word, Elijah twirled his finger in the air, motioning for Marcel to turn around. Marcel kicked his foot against the floorboard as he turned to face the corner.

"Good luck," Kol muttered as he left his friend to simmer in his anger.

Before Kol could leave for the kitchen, Klaus called him over to the armchair. Kol's ears burned with anxiety over what his brother could possibly want from him. He'd done his time, certainly he wasn't going to still be punished.

Klaus leaned forward in his chair, staring up at Kol's big brown eyes. "I'm proud of you."

Kol blushed at Klaus's unexpected praise.

"You could have done better," Klaus continued. "But...considering this was your first hour-long stint in the corner, I believe you did very well. Now..." Klaus sat back in the chair and held his arms out to his brother. "Would you like to be held?"

Kol's entire face turned red. He looked over to Marcel, hoping the young vampire was too busy muttering curses against Klaus and Elijah to have heard Klaus's proposal. He didn't think he would ever forget the looks of unbridled judgment Marcel and Finn laced him with when they woke to see him cuddled in Elijah's arms.

"N-no," he answered. "I...I'm okay."

Klaus nodded his understanding as he stood. He wrapped his arms around Kol and pulled him into a hug that his brother fell wantingly into. "Do not hurt Finn again," Klaus said as if a mantra as he pulled away from Kol. "Do we understand each other?"

Kol gave a slight nod.

"Alright," Klaus gave Kol's bottom a soft pat, propelling him towards the kitchen as he said, "You two go eat lunch, and then afterward, we will go back to the lake so we can try to cool off some of these hot bottoms before the sun goes down."

Kol and Finn both groaned at Klaus's casualness regarding their current state of perpetual soreness.

As his three brothers disappeared through the kitchen door, Klaus returned his attention to his son.

"Marcellus," he said firmly. "Come here."

Marcel hesitated to turn around, not because of fear but out of sheer defiance. Eventually, he turned, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Klaus cocked an eyebrow as Marcel stood still where he was. "I said 'Come. Here'." He repeated.

Gritting his teeth, Marcel marched over to Klaus, stopping more than an arm's reach away from him, giving himself space to run in case Klaus decided he deserved another few licks to knock some of the petulance from him.

They stared each other down for a long while, neither of them saying anything.

Klaus was the first to speak. "Thirty," he said matter-o-factly. "That's hold old you were supposed to be when I handed over the kingdom to you. I thought thirty would be old enough for most of the faction leaders to respect your decisions and you would be wise enough to know how to deal with the ones who didn't."

"Well," Marcel relaxed his arms to his side, realizing they were having a conversation now, not an argument. "I'm well over thirty now."

"Then act like it," Klaus bit. "Stop lying to me. Even if I hand over the crown to you, I will still be your father. I will still be looking after you, protecting you. Prove to me that you can mature enough to rule a kingdom in peace when peace is needed and perform the heinous task of doling out justice when justice is required and I will gladly hand over the kingdom to you. But first, and always, I expect honesty from you. Do I make myself clear, Marcellus?"

Marcel stood silently contemplating. "I don't know what you're looking for," he finally said. "I am mature. I took care of Davina-"

"Ah yes," Klaus chuckled. "Locking a sixteen-year-old girl in an attic slike she's some fairytale princess. You did a splendid job of 'taking care' of her. Not to mention you interfered with witch-business when witch-business did not involve you."

"I saved her life," Marcel barked.

"Her life would have been safe if you'd never interfered in the first place. All you did was create enemies."

"How was I supposed to know their little ritual was real? All I saw were a couple of dead girls and they were about to kill another one so I stepped in before they could."

"Before the ritual, how long had it been since you all had a faction meeting?"

Marcel's eyebrows knotted in confusion at the question. He shrugged. "I don't know...maybe a few years. Ten...maybe twenty?"

"Twenty years," Klaus nodded as if he'd suspected as much. "As King, you should have been on top of everything that goes on in your city. How would you know what the witches are planning if your meetings are so well disorganized?"

"They should've come to me," Marcel barked. "I was their King. It was their duty to keep me informed about such a barbaric ritual."

"Why?"

Marcel was against silenced by the confusing question. He felt it was obvious why.

"What had you done for that generation of witches to make them trust you as their King? Did you think just proclaiming it with your army of idiotic vampires would be enough?"

Marcel clenched his fists in anger at the direction of the conversation.

"I understand why you did it, Marcellus," Klaus stepped closer to Marcel, placing his hands gently around his son's face as he looked into his eyes. "But what you need to understand is that it is not the duty of the subjects to inform the King of their doings, but the duty of the King to keep himself abreast of everything that goes on in his Kingdom."

Marcel's eyes fell to the armchair. He couldn't look at Klaus at the moment. He'd run New Orleans for a hundred years and just like that, after one stupid mistake, Klaus was taking his Kingdom from him.

Klaus pressed his thumb under Marcel's chin, lifting his head so that his son was looking him in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I know this is past year hasn't been easy for you. Or the past twelve...the past two hundred. It has always been hard for me to see you hurting...but it's my duty to raise a King. And you have to be a man who can recognize his mistakes and learn from them, do you understand me?"

Marcel gave a slight nod as Klaus released his face.

"When you say," Marcel's voice came softly as Klaus sat back down in the armchair. "That...you will always be my father...even after I'm King again...what do you mean?"

Klaus leaned over on the armrest, staring up at Marcel with a look that said 'you know exactly what I mean'.

Marcel began to squirm under Klaus's gaze. A part of him wanted to argue that a King couldn't be spanked, that it wasn't how things were done. But most of him wanted to keep things as they were, exactly how they were before he became a vampire, back when his family's love was the thing he was most sure about.

Then, Klaus reached up and pulled Marcel down into a sitting position on his lap. Marcel whimpered as his bottom collided with Klaus's firm knee. Klaus shushed him and adjusted the young vampire in his lap, allowing him to rest his head against the crook of his neck as he ran his hand down Marcel's arm.

"So long as you are a Mikaelson, I will always be your father. And you will always be a Mikaelson, even when you hate it. It is the curse of our family. It doesn't matter what titles you hold or what army you command. I will protect you, take care of you, and...punish you whenever your actions disappoint, always and forever."

Marcel frowned but he did not argue. "When New Orleans is my city...I make the decisions for it. Even when you think I'm wrong...you won't have a say. It will be my city again."

Klaus tapped his hand rhythmically against the side of Marcel's thigh, close enough to his aching cheeks to cause the young vampire to squirm. The taps weren't hard enough to hurt. They served as merely a warning to Marcel that he was treading dangerously close to insubordination and his father could only be ever so lenient.

"It will be your city to command," Klaus said. "But if you do anything to put your life in danger, I will intervene every time."

"Klaus-"

"I mean it, Marcellus." Klaus's hand stilled against Marcel's thigh. "It was well known a century ago that any man who dared raise a hand against Marcellus Mikaelson had forfeited his life the moment the thought crossed his mind. I intend to remind the world of that fact very soon. And if the threat against your life just so happens to come from your own poor judgments as a King, I will promptly remind you that even a King can get his bottom warmed."

Marcel gritted his teeth but decided not to argue. Then, he grumbled, "Marcel 'Mikaelson' Gerard."

Klaus gave a soft chuckle. "Gerard," Klaus repeated as if it were his first time saying the name out loud. "Is that the name you plan to give the boy?"

Marcel sat up, looking his father in the eye in confusion. "The boy?"

Klaus stared at the ceiling as if he were trying to remember something. "The little one," he said as if it explained everything. "The...the brother to the angry girl."

"Oliver?" Marcel laughed, rising off of his father's lap and making his way to the kitchen. Whatever Elijah cooked had been calling his name since he first opened the kitchen door and Marcel couldn't wait to dig in.

Klaus rolled his eyes as he stood, following close behind his son. "Yes, thank you, that was going to keep me up all night. You all have brought so many orphans into my home it's hard to keep track of all of their names."

"They're not orphans anymore Klaus. They're a part of this family now."

"Would that be the Mikaelson family?" Klaus subtly repeated his question. "Or the Gerard?"

Pushing the kitchen door open, Marcel said, "I haven't decided yet."

"Yes, well, no hurry. Just remember the weight the Mikaelson name carries. Little Oliver Mikaelson would be quite the prestigious little witch."

"Quite the targeted little witch as well."

"We are working on getting the enemy count to a record low," said Klaus as he took his seat at the head of the table. "And by we, I mean us 'Original' vampires, more specifically, Elijah and I. The rest of you can focus on other more immediate preoccupations."

Marcel eased himself into the chair beside Kol. Elijah had taken full advantage of the fully equipped chef's kitchen and grounded down some of the deer meat to make venison burgers topped with homemade coleslaw. The only downside, Marcel thought, was that he paired it with a 'light side salad' instead of the steak fries Marcel thought such a delicious burger deserved.

Kol and Finn were already halfway through their meal when Marcel and Klaus took their seats. Their burger and salad were already waiting for them as if Elijah expected Klaus to bring Marcel back for lunch after their talk.

With a mouthful of juicy burger, Marcel asked, "What do you mean by other 'preoccupations'?"

Niklaus looked across at Elijah with a smile. He knew his brother was irritated by Marcel's bad table manners and a part of him wondered if Marcel hadn't done it simply to irritate his brother.

"Well," Klaus stated, turning to his two other brothers. "For one, Kol and Finn have the next thirty-six hours to figure out how to fix their relationship before we return home."

Finn's eyes widened at the mention of his name and then immediately narrowed when he realized why. Kol harrumphed sullenly and continued eating his burger.

"And, there is also the issue of the new school."

Marcel paused mid-bite to focus entirely on Klaus. "Caroline's new school? What about it?"

Klaus gave a wily smirk. "You're not the only one who's been in contact with the Mystic Falls crew. Despite everything, Caroline is insistent on going through with opening her New Orleans school in the fall and I have spent the last few weeks figuring out ways to make the school more advantageous for this family."

"Oh yeah. How's that?"

Klaus sighed as he jabbed his fork into his burger, cutting it up with his knife and eating it piece by piece as if it were a fine steak. "All in due time, son. Wouldn't want to jinx anything before it's all set in stone."

Before Marcel could pressure Klaus on it anymore, they all heard a distinct buzzing sound coming from Elijah's pocket. With a sigh, Elijah fished his phone from his pants pocket to see the name 'Oliver' flash across in bright letters. Marcel recognized his phone case in Elijah's hand and was a bit shocked to see it. Unbeknownst to him, Elijah had had his phone since the early morning since it woke him with a loud ring and Rebekah was on the other end. For some reason, she'd assumed Marcel would have his phone, and Elijah was forced to remind her that they were not supposed to be contacted during the hunting trips and just because she now had the technology to contact them with a push of a few buttons didn't mean that she should utilize it. His stubborn little sister had sent a few encouraging texts to her love, all of which Elijah had ignored and let go unanswered. But there was one message from Tyler Lockwood that caught his attention.

'They've given us a time limit. We have until the end of the week to get them Klaus's blood or they kill my friends. If my friends die, I come after yours.'

Elijah decided to keep Marcel's phone on him in case any other important messages came through and also to keep Marcel from sneaking away and seeing the message himself. He hadn't had the privacy to tell Klaus about the message yet but knew he'd have time later when the others were distracting themselves in the lake.

Now, however, it was Oliver who called. Despite Elijah's protests that a four-year-old was too irresponsible to be expected to keep up with something as important and expensive as a telephone, Rebekah bought the boy one within his first week of moving into the Mikaelson Compound. She programmed all of their phone numbers inside and set up the Parental Blockers so he could only call them and other emergency numbers and all other numbers were automatically blocked from calling him. The boy rarely used the phone to make calls, however. Most of the time he used it for games and other fun apps so Elijah was a bit surprised to see the call.

He couldn't possibly decline a call from Oliver.

He held the phone over the table and pressed the green button. A little holographic projection of Oliver appeared over the table. The boy had a wide smile that immediately shifted when he saw the man on the other end. He could only see what was directly in front of the camera on his end so instead of the joyous face of his father that he expected to see, he got Elijah's crabby glower.

Leaning away from the camera, causing his head to disappear from the hologram, Elijah listened as Oliver whispered to someone off-camera, "It's Unc'a 'Lijah."

"Ask to speak to Marcel," The other voice, clearly Rebekah's heavily accented voice, whispered back.

Oliver pulled himself back into frame and said, "Um, is daddy there?"

"Hello to you too, Oliver," Elijah responded, firmly correcting the boy's absentminded greeting.

With a shy smile, Oliver said, "Hello, Unc'a 'Lijah. Is daddy there?"

Elijah looked over to Marcel. The young vampire couldn't help but smile as he watched the boy get under Elijah's skin without even trying.

"He is," Elijah answered, turning back to Oliver. "But he can't talk right now. I thought I told you we were not to be disturbed this weekend."

Oliver's bottom lip poked out and his thin black brows pressed into a tight knot. "But I miss him," he whined. "He didn't tuck me in last night and I had a bad dream 'cause of it."

Marcel's heart immediately gave way to the boy's whine but as he reached for the phone, Elijah promptly batted his hand away, lacing MArcel with a sharp glare that threatened retribution after the call was ended if he reached for the phone again.

"I'm sorry you had a bad dream, Oliver," Elijah continued, his eyes still sharpened on Marcel who stared back at him with a furious glare of his own. "But we won't be home until Monday morning. Perhaps try asking your mommy to tuck you in tonight."

Elijah could hear the stomp of Oliver's feet off camera even though he couldn't see it. "I want daddy! Mommy doesn't know how to do it right."

Marcel reached for the phone again and again Elijah batted it away. A part of Elijah was tempted to go back home that moment and tuck little Oliver in himself in the same way he used to tuck his daddy in when he was in a temperamental mood.

"Rebekah," Elijah called.

There was a moment of silence before Rebekah finally spoke off-camera in the singsong tone of someone who knew they'd been caught, "Yes, Elijah."

"Has Oliver had his nap yet?"

The camera shuffled a bit as Rebekah lifted Oliver into her arms and leaned into frame. She smiled, even though she knew her brother was irritable as usual, but mostly because she suspected Marcel was in the room and she wanted him to see her smile even if she couldn't see his.

"Um, no, not yet. We just finished lunch and were headed that way when little Ollie decided to call daddy."

"Unfortunately Marcellus is indisposed at the moment, as he will be for the rest of the weekend, so I urge you to learn his bedtime routine so that he may have a nightmare-free sleep or the boy's attitude might land him as..." Elijah looked over to Oliver's sulky pout, realizing he still wasn't sure just how much the boy knew. Then, in an archaic German dialect that even Marcel barely understood, he said, "The youngest Mikaelson in history to feel the sting of my palm."

Rebekah blushed for the boy. "You will do no such thing," she responded in English. "He is our son and we don't need mean Uncle Elijah to discipline him. I've got him under control."

"Be sure that you do, dear sister."

Just as Rebekah moved to take the phone from Oliver and hang up, the little boy blurted out, "Meanie," before sticking his tongue out at Elijah.

The call ended just as Marcel and Kol's heavy laughter rolled through the room. Elijah looked across the table, a bit piqued to see Niklaus holding back a smile as well.


I know I promised Davina, Hope, and Izzy in this chapter too but I ran out of time again lol but don't worry, they're not forgotten about.