Warning: Spanking of a Minor
Chapter 90
Flashback:
Marcel woke with a start as the valet threw back his curtains, allowing the full beam of the morning sun to cascade over his tired face.
"Goodmorning, young Master Marcellus," the man said, a gentle smile on his face.
Marcel sat up, his heart pounding as he looked around the room. It had only been a week since he'd moved into the Mikaelson estate and every morning he woke afraid that it was all a dream.
His breathing slowed as he realized his room, the soft bed he slept in, the warm blankets around him, were all real.
He had still not gotten used to having someone else dress him. It was awkward standing still as the man buttoned his pants and draped his shirt over his shoulders. He could do it all himself but he was afraid if he rejected the norms of the gentry, Klaus would realize he didn't belong in his household after all. It didn't help that he was wearing yet another set of new clothes, collars stiff and waistbands with no give to them. Every morning he woke to a different outfit. He'd never owned so many clothes in his life and, if the other Mikaelsons' wardrobes were any indication of his future, he knew it wouldn't stop any time soon.
He couldn't help but think about Emil as he was dressed. When he was younger, one of his duties was to help Emil with his daily tasks. Emil was one of the few people in the Governor's household who was nice to him. There was even a time when Marcel thought the two of them would become friends. But then one day, the Governor came to him with a pair of torn trousers - trousers Emil told his father Marcel had torn while helping him out of them the night before when in actuality, Marcel knew Emil had ripped them while sneaking out of the house to sneak and see a secret witch ceremony with his friends in the middle of the night.
Marcel never trusted Emil again after that. Not because he was angry that Emil lied to keep out of trouble, earning Marcel a beating he didn't deserve, but because Emil never even apologized to him for it. Emil was the only person he thought he could trust, but he was wrong.
As the valet finished the last button of Marcel's trousers, the door opened as if on cue. He grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Klaus entering the room, a plate of beignets in his hands.
"Are those for me?" Marcel dared asked. A week ago he would've never had the courage to ask such a bold question but since arriving there, it seemed Klaus Mikaelson never ran out of things to give him.
"Of course." As Marcel hurried over to grab one of the sweet treats, Klaus said, "How do the new clothes fit? We can have them altered again if you need."
"They fit perfect, suh. Thank you, Mr. Mikaelson, suh."
Klaus schooled his face to hide his disappointment in being called 'Mr. Mikaelson'. He knew enough about childhood trauma to know that he had to be careful how he reacted to Marcel so as not to reawaken any old fears.
"Please call me 'Klaus', Marcellus," Klaus said, taking a beignet for himself.
Marcel blushed at the gentle reminder. He wasn't used to calling someone like Klaus by his first name but every day, Klaus insisted on it and Marcel didn't want to disappoint him.
Klaus took Marcel everywhere he went throughout the day, teaching him about the 'expenditures' and 'revenue' and other things necessary for running such a large estate. Marcel found it all a bit overwhelming but he was happy for the attention so he paid attention and made sure to learn everything Klaus taught him so the man would want to spend the next day with him too. The only time he wasn't in the exclusive presence of Klaus was during his studies with Elijah, but even then, Klaus sat beside him, encouraging him as he learned to write his letters.
After supper, they retired to the drawing-room where Klaus relaxed with a glass of wine and Marcel with a warm glass of cider. The boy sat in the comfy armchair across from Klaus, stealing the occasional glance at the man in hopes that Klaus wouldn't feel as if he were watching him too closely, but Marcel couldn't help it. He admired Klaus more than any man he'd ever met. He sat straighter in his chair because Klaus did. He swirled his cider around his glass like a fine Bordeaux because that's how Klaus treated his drink. He wasn't sure what the future held for him, but he knew it he could be half the man Klaus Mikaelson was, the world would show him respect, even if just a little bit.
"It's getting late," Klaus said, setting his empty glass on the table between them. "Shall I walk you back to your room?"
Marcel shook his head no as he stood. As much as he wanted Klaus to go with him, he did not want to seem too needy. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Mikaelson." He said, formality seeping through every pore as he respectfully hung his head.
Marcel stiffened when Klaus stood, realizing that he'd once again called the man 'Mr. Mikaelson' instead of 'Klaus' like he wanted. He tucked his chin into his chest, preparing for a strike for his continued disobedience.
His pounding heart seemed to pause mid-beat as Klaus wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling the boy into a tight hug against his abdomen.
"Thank you for spending the day with me, Marcellus. I would appreciate the company again tomorrow if you can spare the time."
Marcel's lip trembled as emotions overwhelmed him. He tried to fight against his tears so as not to ruin Klaus's shirt but he couldn't help himself. "Y-yes, suh. I'd like that."
Klaus cupped his hands beneath the boy's jaw and lifted his head so that he had a clear view of his forehead as he placed a kiss on his temple.
Marcel's face burned with shock. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been treated so affectionately. His momma used to kiss him all the time but...he hadn't been kissed since.
"Good night, Marcellus."
Marcel opened his mouth to say goodnight but instead of words, a sob broke through. He didn't know why he was crying and he couldn't stop himself. He forced his mouth closed, hoping to suffocate his crying but the more he fought it, the heavier he cried.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered out. "I-I'm t-tryna st-stop."
To his continued surprise, instead of scolding him or punishing him for his tears, Klaus lifted him into his arms and began pacing the room as he whispered soft coos into his ears.
Klaus didn't know what he did to make the boy cry. He assumed it was the kiss. Maybe Marcel didn't want to be kissed by him. He was just some stranger, after all.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Marcellus. In the future, I will-"
"You didn't upset me, Mis-...K-Klaus, suh. It's just..." Marcel sucked his lip in between his teeth to keep it from trembling as he spoke.
He was doing his best to bring his crying to an end. He knew he was too old to carry on the way he was. The Governor used to threaten to 'give him something to cry for' whenever he caught him crying for no reason.
"The Governor...he...he never...kissed me b-befo'."
Klaus cradled Marcel's head in his hands as he said, "I am not the Governor. You are my son now. Always and forever."
The boy wasn't used to being spoken to so gently but since he'd come to live with the Mikaelsons, Klaus was always this gentle with him, never yelling at him for crying, always hugging and holding him when he needed it, and especially when he didn't think he needed it. He didn't deserve so much kindness. He hadn't done anything to earn it. Not yet.
Marcel's nose burned as the tears he fought to keep in came streaming down his cheeks again. "I-I will make you proud, K-Klaus. I-I promise. I-I can't ever be a good as Emil b-but...I will be as best as I can be."
Klaus held him tighter as the boy's crying grew heavier, walking at a steady gait from the fireplace to the bookcase and back again as he rocked Marcel to sleep in his arms. "You are perfect, my sweet boy," he whispered. "Just the way you are."
End Flashback
-M-
Hope laid across Sebastian's bed, her best friend laying beside her, while Finn sat at the desk across the room watching them with distrustful eyes.
"I don't want to change schools again," Hope groaned. "I just got used to this one. I have friends there."
Sebastian released a heavy sigh as he listened to her complaints. "It won't be that bad," he said. "I mean...we get to go to a school where we can do magic out in the open."
Hope sat up and glared at him. "Who's side are you on?"
"He's right," Finn spoke up against his better judgment. As Hope glared at him, he knew he should've just shut up. "I mean...it's not very fair for witches, wolves, and vampires to go to school with humans anyway. You have a physical advantage. A vampire could just compel themself good grades. You witches have a spell for everything, including luck which doesn't really make for a leveled playing field. And any wolf that can control their abilities outside of the full moon has a physical advantage no human will be able to match."
Hope rolled her eyes at his speech. She already knew all that. But it still wasn't fair. She'd never gone to the same school for as long as she'd been in her current one and now she was going to have to leave again. It was only a matter of time before her mom decided it was time to move again.
"Gah, you're so annoying," she groaned. "Why did I bring you?"
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Sebastian scoffed. "Since when do you hang out with...him?"
Hope shrugged. "Dad said if I'm nice to Mikael's Spawn, he'll let Aunty Freya teach me from Esther's Grimoire."
Sebastian's ears perked in excitement. "How nice are we talking? Like...we don't have to bake him a pie or anything, right?"
"So far I know I'm just not supposed to use my powers against him."
"So...moderately nice."
"Do you think I care if you're nice to me?" Finn bit, his anger riling at the teens as they spoke about him like he wasn't in the room. "A pathetic witch who may never rise about the station of potion peddler and a freak of nature who never should've existed in the first place? You're forced kindness means nothing to me. You're lucky the humans haven't raised an army to come after you already. You should be on your knees thanking Klaus's woman for creating a school to house abominations like you in the first place.
Hope lept to her feet, every muscle in her arms straining as she clenched her fists at her side. Sebastian quickly grabbed her arm before she could charge the vampire.
Glaring down at her friend, Hope saw the calmness in his eyes and let it calm her.
"He's not worth it," said Sebastian. Then, glaring over at Finn, he continued, "I think you've overstayed your welcome, friend. I think you should leave."
Finn jumped to his feet. "Gladly. And I'm not your friend."
-M-
Marcel sat back in a kitchen chair, a glass of blood in his hand as he enjoyed the peace and silence of the chicken baking in the oven. He was deep in thought about how things would be in Caroline's School. This would be his first encounter with other supernaturals outside of the Mikaelson household since he lost his title of King of New Orleans. Sure, he'd had run-ins with the occasional wolf or witch while roaming the city but he was always called away on family business before any of them could confront him. Now, he won't have Klaus around to save him from any awkward encounters. He will have to stand face to face with other powerful beings who've known about his past status as King and Upgraded Original and face any mocking or criticism they have on his recent downgrade.
"Here you are."
Marcel jumped at the sound of Kol's voice coming from behind him. He was so deep in thought he didn't hear the Original sneaking up from behind.
Slipping into the chair beside him, Kol continued, "So...how pissed is she?"
Marcel sighed, knowing exactly who Kol was asking about without him going into any specifics. "Oh...y'know, she's Davina. But I think I got through to her before she could start plotting her revenge on Klaus."
Kol tried to hide his relief at that. If Davina wanted to plot revenge against Klaus for spanking her, he was going to stand by her and help in any way he could But he didn't want to. His family was finally starting to try to understand him, to care about him as much as they did Marcel, and he was interested in seeing how far they would go to understand him.
"Mr. Gerard," a dark-haired woman peeped up from the doorway. Marcel and Kol both turned to her. Kol smirked, recognizing her as the servant he'd nearly overfed on in Freya's workshop. She held a brown paper bag in her hands and as she spoke to Marcel, her eyes focused on Kol. "Your delivery has arrived."
"Thank you," Marcel said as he took the bags from her hands, ignoring the way she eyed his friend. Women always fell head-over-heels for Kol. Some brave men too. But Kol was much more decerning when it came to paramours. He usually allowed people to pursue him so he could get close enough to earn their trust and then...he used them for his own desires. Which usually ended very badly for them. "You may leave now."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Kol quickly rose to his feet. "What's the hurry?"
Marcel narrowed his eyes at Kol, suspicion rising inside him. He tried to dismiss the girl before Kol could get any ideas in his head but he should've known his old friend was always plotting something cynical when he could.
The young woman smiled as Kol stood before her, his charming grin causing her to let down every reasonable defense she had.
"How about a quick bite before lunch."
"Of course, Mr. Mikaelson," the girl said, eagerly swiping her hair to the side and exposing her neck. "Whenever you desire."
Marcel rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the sound of Kol feeding.
"You need to get used to feeding from a cup like everyone else," Marcel said aloud as he unpacked the grocery delivery. An entire order of just strawberries. Pounds of them. Half to be frozen, half for the fridge. He'd hoped he had enough for at least a week's worth of snacking for Oliver so the boy would have something to eat one the days he was being a particularly picky eater. "I don't want Oliver to see you drinking from anyone while I'm away."
Kol grudgingly pulled away from the girl's neck to spit, "Then take the little bugger with you," before diving in for another bite.
"I would if he weren't so small," Marcel grunted as he grabbed a knife and began chopping the strawberries in half and placing them in a vacuum-sealed container. "Although...maybe I should take you with me. Just to be on the safe side. At least then I'd know you weren't exposing Oliver to any of the vulgar shit you traumatized me with."
Kol pulled away from the girl again, this time, his eyes lighting with excitement. "Actually...that sounds like a brilliant idea."
Marcel looked up to Kol in confusion. "What? Traumatizing me?"
"No, the first bit." Kol hurried over to the counter across from Marcel. "Me coming to the school with you. Then I could be close to Davina." Staring at his blurred reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator, he continued, "A good night's sleep, I could pass for a High Schooler."
Marcel scoffed at Kol's vanity. "Even if that were true, which it most certainly is not, the school is for new vampires. You are just a thousand years shy of the age requirement."
Kol leaned across the counter, glaring at Marcel as he chopped the strawberries as if trying to intimidate him into agreeing with him.
"Look," Marcel sighed. "None of this is my decision anyway. Even if I did agree that a thousand-year-old 20-year-old somehow met the age requirement to be a student, I'm just a professor. Caroline is the Dean. She's the one you have to convince."
"Or Elijah."
Kol and Marcel turned to see Finn standing awkwardly at the doorway. He'd just barely overheard the end of their conversation as he came for a blood bag on his way to Freya's workshop. He'd considered avoiding the kitchen all together when he heard their voices inside but he was still aching for Kol's forgiveness so he was willing to do anything he could to gain a bit of Kol's trust.
Curious, Kol asked, "Why does Elijah matter?"
Finn stepped further in the kitchen, knowing he had Kol's attention. "Because Freya says he's to be the school's Director. He has more power than Caroline. He could probably even make you a teacher if you wanted."
"Kol, a teacher?" Marcel laughed. "On the list of people not qualified to teach anyone anything, Kol is at the top."
"I could be a teacher," Kol bit. "I could teach those mangy little vamps how to compel their prey to get away with feeding in public spaces"
"Oh, yes, you sound like an amazing teacher already. Teach the next generation of vamps to dehumanize their victims by calling them prey, that's how you do it."
"Humans love to be called prey. It makes them feel...desired." Kol turned his attention to the nosey young woman still silently listening to everything they said. "Isn't that right?"
She nodded her head yes, a well-lit eagerness to please in her eyes.
Marcel narrowed his eyes at her. He recognized a bite addict when he saw one. "Thank you," he said rather curtly. "You are dismissed."
She hesitated, watching Kol as if she expected him to object again but Kol stopped caring about her the moment he got what he needed from her.
As the servant left the room, Marcel said, "Stop feeding on her. She's becoming a Fanger."
Kol rolled his eyes. He didn't care if she became a Fanger or not. She was just another human who would be gone in a few years.
"Fanger?" Finn repeated. "What's that?"
Marcel stared at him with uncertainty for a moment. He still wasn't used to being friendly with Finn. It felt off. But, as long as Finn was willing to be decent to him, he decided to return the sentiment.
"It's a name we used to call the groupies who used to hang around the Compound before the war. Always begging to be fed on. They're fine at first but...they get a bit obsessed after a while and then they become dangerous."
Kol waved his hand dismissively at the implication. "What's the worst she can do to me?"
"It's not you that I'm worried about," Marcel bit. "What if she becomes jealous of Davina?"
Kol's eyes narrowed, realizing he hadn't considered that. "Fine. I'll kill her tonight."
Marcel sat the knife down on the counter, shocked by Kol's sudden jump in logic. "That's not what I said."
"Well, you don't want her to hurt Davina, do you?"
"Stop feeding on her and she won't."
"She's already too far gone, mate. Don't worry, I'll make it quick and painless. And I'll dispose of the body in the bayou like we always used to do."
"No. Do not kill her."
Confused by why Marcel was so adamant about not killing the girl when the two of them used to kill people all the time, Kol remembered Finn was in the room. Obviously Marcel was afraid the little kiss-up would tell Freya their plan.
"Ohh," he said, winking at Marcel. "Yes, of course. I won't kill her."
Cocking an eyebrow, Marcel said, "Why did you wink at me?"
"Because..." Kol winked again. "I'm letting you know that I will not be killing the servant girl tonight."
"I feel like you think you think I'm doing a bit right now and I do want you to kill that girl tonight but I am being so honest with your right now, I do not want you to kill that girl."
"Right." Wink. "And I won't."
"Then why did you just wink again?"
"Because I'm agreeing with you."
His frustrations growing, Marcel stated one last time. "Do. Not. Kill. Her."
"I. Will. Not." The fact that every word Kol said was punctuated with a wink drove Marcel's emotions through the roof. He slammed his hands across the countertop just as Elijah entered the kitchen.
"Well," Elijah's voice fell dryly from his lips. "I thought I'd come help serve lunch and it looks like I'm just in time." His sight drifting between the three young vampires before him, Elijah asked, "Does anyone want to tell me what's going on?"
"Nothing," Marcel growled. As angry as he was at Kol right now, he decided he'd just catch him alone later and re-emphasis how serious he is that Kol not kill the servant. He didn't need Elijah to step in.
"Is that so," Elijah strolled slowly over to Marcel. "Because you seem to be in quite the temper."
"I think I might be to blame for that," Kol droned.
Marcel cut his eyes at Kol, expecting him to foolishly blurt out the truth.
Plucking half a strawberry from the cutting board, Kol plopped it in his mouth and said, "I keep eating the brat's strawberries and big bad Daddy-Marcel is getting a bit irritated. Think he could probably use a nap."
"I just woke up." Marcel's face burned with shame at the words that flew from his mouth before he could stop them.
"Good," Elijah moved to check the chicken in the oven, ignoring Kol's mocking laughter and Marcel's intense glare. "Then I suspect you will keep your behaviors under control for the rest of the day?"
Taking a deep breath to calm himself before he said anything to earn himself a trip over Elijah's knee, Marcel grabbed the knife and began chopping the strawberries in silence.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge as Elijah hoovered behind him. "When I ask you a question Marcellus, I expect an answer."
Marcel stabbed the knife into the cutting board, piercing through inches of solid wood in his anger but he managed to still growl out, "Yes, Elijah."
Pulling the knife from the cutting board, Elijah kindly warned, "Attitude, Marcellus."
Squeezing his fists at his sides, Marcel marched heatedly towards the door. "I'm going for a jog."
"Lunch will be ready soon," Elijah said over his shoulder as he returned to preparing lunch. "Do not be late."
Marcel clenched his teeth in reply. A part of him wanted to skip lunch altogether just to prove to Elijah that he controlled his own life.
Under Elijah's instruction, Kol and Finn set the table for lunch while he and Marcel finished cooking. By the time the chicken breasts were done, the rest of the Mikaelson had found their way to the kitchen.
Rebekah smiled up at Klaus from her place at the table as he entered with Oliver in his arms, the boy resting his head against the man's chest but with his glassy eyes wide open, fighting sleep as best he could. Klaus was less focused on his sister's teasing smirk than he was on the teenager sulking by his side. Hope hardly said two words to him since he'd come to walk her back from Sebastian's house. He was sure it was his fault she was acting so distant. He hadn't spent enough time with her and now she felt neglected.
Passing Oliver off to Rebekah, Klaus pulled out the chair beside his and motioned for Hope to sit in it.
Hope kept her eyes on the floor as she took the seat beside her father. She saw Finn sitting at the table beside Freya when she came in and every muscle in her body wanted to rip him limb from limb but kept herself in check even without Sebastian there to stop her.
Finn could feel the tension streaming from Hope all the way across the table. He clutched his hands in his lap, hoping she didn't pick now to confront him about what he'd said. As good as it felt to tell her off in private, to have his bigotry exposed in front of everyone after he'd worked so hard to return to the family was his worst nightmare.
"Hmmm, Marcellus is late," said Klaus as everyone began to eat.
Kol smirked at his friend's boldness and his smile only grew at seeing the tension in Elijah's eyebrow, a muscle he thought only he could tense.
"He went for a jog," Kol said. "He'll be back soon, I'm sure."
"He was supposed to be back before lunch," said Elijah.
The heavy grunt from Izzy drew Elijah's attention directly to her.
"Do you have something you'd like to say, young lady?"
She glared across the table at him. Without missing a beat, she answered, "He's two hundred years old. If he wants to skip lunch, he should be able to skip lunch. It's his body after all. You can't tell him what to do with it."
Elijah gave a soft nod as if understanding exactly where her attitude was coming from. "You are still on punishment for running off last night, young lady. Do not make me extend the time because of your attitude."
Izzy sunk further down in her chair, evidently unphased by Elijah's irritation but trusting that he would follow through on his threat if provoked.
"Can me and Izzy go to the park after lunch?" Oliver asked Rebekah as he picked a handful of berries from the bowl beside her chicken salad.
Rebekah didn't even bother looking at Elijah for confirmation as she said, "I'm afraid Izzy's going to be a bit...preoccupied for the next few days, sweetie. But the two of us can go to the park."
Staring woefully across the table at his sister, Oliver whined, "But...that's not fair. I wanna go with Izzy."
"Perhaps," Klaus spoke up. "You should go take a nap after lunch instead. It's been quite a long morning and you've been staving off a nap all day."
Crossing his arms over his narrow chest, Oliver bit, "No. I wanna go to the park with Izzy."
"I think-"
"You can't tell me what to do! You're not my daddy! I wanna go to the park with Izzy!"
Klaus's jaw tightened but he didn't say anything else. The entire table went silent, waiting for Rebekah to respond to the boy's outburst.
Turning Oliver so that he was facing her, Rebekah lifted his chin with her finger and gently scolded, "We do not raise our voices when we get angry. We talk about our feelings."
Oliver pulled his chin from her hand and screamed, "No! I don't wanna talk! I wanna go to the park!"
"We're not going to the park until you learn to talk about your feelings," Rebekah continued calmly.
His frustrations taking control of him, Oliver grabbed the bowl of strawberries and threw them as far as he could. The glass bowl shattered against the tiled floor. Without warning, the boy fell into a fit of tears.
Rebekah was dumbfounded. She wished Marcel was there. He would know exactly what to do.
"See," Izzy bit bad-tempered. "This is what happens when you force people to do things they don't want to do."
"Up," Elijah said firmly, standing to his feet. Izzy stared at him in confusion until he repeated the order in the same gruff monotone. "Now."
Confused, the girl stood to her feet and watched as Elijah rounded the table to Rebekah, lifting Oliver from her lap and onto his hip. The boy kicked and screamed in the man's arms but Elijahs simply ignored him as he started towards the doorway.
"Come along, Izzy."
Izzy's blood ran cold as she watched Elijah leave the room. She knew this walk. She'd been shifted between enough foster homes to know when someone was about to shove her things in a plastic bag and send her off again. She thought things would be different with the Mikaelsons, she was almost sure it would be, but as Elijah continued through the door without looking back at her, she realized she was wrong.
She couldn't look at anyone in the room as she followed Elijah's trail. She bit her lip and hardened her face to keep some semblance of pride as she marched up the staircase. It hurt to know that the Mikaelsons would just give up on them after one rough weekend but she knew she should've expected it eventually. Her only regret was trusting that a family of supernaturals would be any different than any other home she'd lived in.
As Elijah made it to the two kid's room, he sat on the edge of Oliver's bed and put the boy on the floor between his knees, pinning his flailing arms to his sides with his wide hands as he waited for the boy to stop crying.
Curious about why Elijah was just holding him instead of yelling and screaming like adults usually did when he threw a tantrum, Oliver slowly simmered down to a heavy sniffle.
"Are you done?" Elijah asked finally.
Fighting back more tears, Oliver bit, "I-I wanna go to the park w-with Izzy."
"You will not be going to the park today," Elijah said firmly. Looking up to Izzy, he continued, "You will both sit in this room until you're in a better mood. I will bring you the rest of your lunch," he gaze fell back down to Oliver, "And a new bowl of strawberries. But if you throw another tantrum, you will receive five very sharp smacks across your bare bottom. Do I make myself clear?"
"No!" Oliver screamed with such gusto Elijah thought he'd lose and eardrum. Then, to his utter surprise, the boy gathered up a wad of saliva in his mouth and spit it out across the man's face.
Izzy's mouth dropped. She didn't know Elijah well enough to know what the man's next move would be and she feared for her little brother that it would be something more than he could take. Even Oliver stood in silent curiosity, wondering what the man would do next.
With methodical calmness, Elijah reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He said nothing as he wiped the spit from his face and tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket.
"We do not spit at people because we're angry," said Elijah, to both children's surprise. "We do not scream because we're angry and we do not hit because we're angry."
Pointing over to Izzy's bed, Elijah looked at the girl and said, "Sit."
Izzy obeyed without a second thought.
Elijah lifted the boy onto the bed beside him and continued, "We are all going to sit here until we have our emotions under control and then," he cut his eyes down at Oliver. "We will discuss our feelings calmly."
Izzy watched the clock on the wall tick by minute after minute, the only sound in the room being the occasional sniffle from Oliver.
After about five minutes, Elijah finally spoke. "Have we all calmed down?"
Izzy gave a slight nod of her head.
Nodding fervently, ready for his timeout to be over, Oliver said, "I'm sorry I spit on you, Unc'a 'Lijah. I won't do it again."
"Good," Elijah lifted the boy from the bed and onto his knee. "But I made you a promise a few minutes ago about what would happen if you continued to throw a tantrum. Do you remember what that promise was?"
Oliver squirmed on top of Elijah's knee. He'd never been spanked before but he knew what a spanking was and he knew he didn't want one.
"No," he whined.
"No, you don't remember?" Elijah asked.
"No, I don't want...a s-spanking."
"That wasn't the question, Oliver."
Tears welled in the corners of the boy's red eyes. "No!" He tried to drop off the side of Elijah's knee but the man kept him in place.
"You are going to get five swats," Elijah said firmly, ignoring the boy's struggles as he spoke. "And then you are going to take a nap because you are obviously tired and your behaviors are getting out of hand."
He didn't give the boy any more time to argue as he flipped him over his knee and pulled his pants and underwear down with one hand. Izzy's face burned with second-hand embarrassment as she got a clear view of the boy's tiny almond cheeks.
Oliver screamed after each sharp smack across his bottom but Izzy couldn't help but notice that even after the fifth smack, Oliver's behind remained the same light color it was to being with. His spanking wasn't nearly as intense as hers. Her bottom still ached from her last spanking but she wondered if Oliver was in any real pain at all.
Sitting the boy back up on his knee, Elijah held him against his chest as Oliver cried out all his frustrations. As the Original shushed his crying and rocked him against his chest, Oliver's heavy eyes grew heavier and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.
Turning his attention back to Izzy, Elijah asked, "Are you ready to go back downstairs or do you need an attitude check as well?"
Swallowing the lump of embarrassment in her throat, Izzy said, "I-I'm ready to go back downstairs."
Elijah nodded as he stood, urging the girl to stand with him. Then, crossing the room to her, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her as lovingly as he held Oliver. Every worried muscle in her body relaxed in his hold.
Her heart fluttered as he placed a kiss against her forehead. "I know that you're still angry about the bracelet right now and you may be angry for a very long time. But you mustn't let your anger earn you a sore bottom. Do you understand me?"
Izzy squeezed her arms tightly around Elijah's body. "I thought..." She pressed her face against his chest so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes as she said, "When you brought us up here, I-I thought...you were going to pack our things and send us away."
Elijah's eyes widened in surprise. After that morning, he was sure the girl knew how serious he was about keeping her in their family. He suddenly realized why Klaus spent so many nights pacing the Compound with a ten-year-old Marcel in his arms. It didn't matter how many times they promised these children that they promised these children forever, they wouldn't believe it until forever came.
"I am never going to let you go." He squeezed her tighter as her sobs increased. "I have claimed you and last night you agreed. You are my daughter, always and forever. You don't get to change your mind and neither do I. You can scream at me, hit me, bite me with your venomous fangs - whenever they do come in - and I will never, ever let you go. I don't care if you're 16 or 60 or 160, I will always hold you when you're upset, I will wipe away your tears, and I will take care of you when you can't take care of yourself. That is my promise to you, always and forever."
Elijah held the girl for several more minutes before she could get her crying to a manageable level.
"I-I'm sorry about my attitude at the table," she mumbled as she pulled away from him. "I-I promise I'll keep it in check from now on."
"You're a teenager," he said with a gentle smile. "I'm sure you will keep that promise...for the next few hours at least. But I'm not going to hold it against you when you don't. Until you're able to emotionally regulate on your own, it is my job to help you get there. At times, that may mean a few sore bottom nights."
Her almond face turned beet red.
Elijah simply chuckled at her embarrassment before placing a hand on her back and guiding her back out the room. "Let's get back down to lunch."
She groaned at the thought of sitting with everyone downstairs knowing that they all probably assumed she'd get spanked for her attitude.
"I'm not hungry. I ate with Vincent earlier."
"Then you can start on the dishes," Elijah stated plainly. "I've decided that will be your weekend chore to help you earn your allowance every week."
Izzy suddenly stopped in the middle of the hall. "I'm getting an allowance?"
"Only 200 to start," he said definitively. "You bring your grades up this year and Hayley and I will discuss raising it."
"$200?! For washing dishes?" She dove into his chest, squeezing him in a hug before he could respond. "I promise I will keep every dish in this house spotless."
With a chuckle, Elijah brushed his hand across her hair. "Only on the weekends. The servants will keep things tidy the rest of the week."
Pulling away from him, she looked into his eyes and said, "Isn't that...a lot of money for just washing a few dishes on the weekends?"
Turning back towards the stairs, Elijah said, "You obviously underestimate the number of dishes this family goes through per meal."
-M-
Marcel threw back another shot as a jazz band serenaded him and the one other day drinker in Rousseaux's. He lifted his empty glass to the bartender, silently ordering another drink, when the bar door opened, shinning the bright light of the sun into the dimly lit bar. He groaned at the sight of Kol shining a smile at him.
"Here you are," Kol sang as he sauntered over to Marcel. "Been looking all over the Quarter for you." He slid onto the stool next to Marcel and held two fingers up to the bartender and she knew to bring a second glass as she came over to refill Marcel's drink. "You missed lunch. 'Lijah's pissed so I hope you're looking forward to a lecture later."
"I just need an hour to myself," Marcel said with enough bite to drive away any sane man.
"Yeah, well, when you finish day drinking, I need you to sober up and come play character witness for me. I need to convince Elijah that I will be perfect to teach the little bloodsuckers at Caroline's school."
"Because you're so great with kids," Marcel grunted sarcastically as he tossed back the last of his whiskey.
"I'm decent with kids. Better with teenagers." Kol slapped his hand down on Marcel's shoulder, ignorant to the obvious tension radiating from the young vampire. "You and I had a blast, didn't we?"
Marcel shrugged Kol's hand from his shoulder and jumped to his feet. "Whatever," he grumbled, marching towards the door.
Confused, Kol stood and followed him. "What's your problem?"
"At the moment? You."
As Marcel reached up to push the door open, Kol suddenly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Seriously. What's your problem?"
Irked by Kol's incessant prying, Marcel shoved the man away from him. "None of your goddamn business."
"Hey!" The bartender shouted. "Take it outside!"
Blowing a huff of air through his nose, Marcel turned and left the bar, Kol immediately on his heels.
"Stop following me," Marcel growled, sensing Kol following only a few feet behind him as he marched through the congested city streets.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Kol replied in his signature sing-song tone.
"I told you. You are what's wrong. Leave. Me. Alone."
"Listen, mate, either you talk to me, or I go tell my big brother that his little Marcellus is having a bad day and have Poppa Klaus pestering you all day."
Marcel stopped and spun around to face Kol, his eyes burning with rage.
"What the hell is your problem?"
With a wily smirk, Kol replied, "At the moment, you."
Without a second thought, Marcel unleashed a hail mary punch into Kol's jaw with enough force to actually knock Kol into an unsuspecting bystander.
"Sorry about that," Kol said to the bystander as he wiped the trickle of blood from his lip. "In a bit of a familial tiff. Teenagers, am I right? They take a bit of patience."
"So now you have the patience for teenagers?" Marcel barked. "A year ago, you thought the best punishment for my mistakes was to throw me to the wolves."
Kol's smile faded. Suddenly, everything clicked. The anniversary of their family's return was coming up.
"Is that what's got you so riled up?" Kol stated plainly. "Yesterday we were brothers and now today you hate me."
"I don't hate you, I just need a moment to myself! My life has been controlled and manipulated by Mikaelsons for the past year and I just need one damn hour of self-autonomy or I swear to whatever God exists, I will kill one of you!"
"Hey!"
Marcel turned to see a police officer coming towards them, his hand on his gun as he approached, and the sight only made his anger grow.
"What's going on over there?"
Kol grabbed Marcel by the wrist and pulled him behind him as the officer stood before them.
"Just having a little conversation with my brother, officer," Kol said smoothly.
The police glanced over Kol's shoulder at Marcel, the heat of his eyes hot enough to burn.
"Someone reported a fight over here."
Kol gave a sheepish shrug. "We haven't seen a fight. Must've been somewhere else."
The police turned his suspicious gaze back to Kol as if he knew the man was lying.
"Is that all?" Kol smiled.
Sucking his teeth, the police replied, "Yeah, that's all. You two have a nice day."
Kol watched the police mosey on through the crowded street before turning back to Marcel.
"As fun as draining that micro-aggressive bastard would've been, it's probably best you don't become New Orleans Most Wanted right before you start your new job as school babysitter." He chuckled at his own joke but Marcel's face remained stoically unimpressed.
Yanking his hand from Kol's grip, Marcel continued his march down the sidewalk.
"I'm sorry," Kol called behind as he started following him again. "I was an arsehole when we returned. I...may still be the occasional arsehole. And I'm sorry for that too."
Marcel continued to march on, ignoring Kol's speech as he followed him. And then in a blink, Kol was in front of him. He pulled himself to a halt just in time to prevent himself from slamming into Kol's body.
"Are you listening to me?"
"I'm trying not to."
Grabbing both of Marcel's shoulders before he could stomp around him, Kol said, "You said we were brothers. You said brothers can't give up on each other. I know I was awful to you a year ago and it may be stirring up some feelings but...I'm sorry. If you wanna chain me to a chair in the basement and release two hundred years' worth of anger out on my behind, then I'll submit without question. Just...forgive me. Please."
Marcel rolled his eyes at Kol's proposal. "I've already forgiven you for that. That's not why I'm..." His jaw tightened as he tried to think of the right way to express his emotions but every word that came to mind made him feel childish. "Angry."
"Then what is?"
Marcel looked around the street, watching as people passed them by without a single care. Not a single vampire in sight.
"This place was different a year ago. I was different. I was so powerful...I was surrounded by people who admired or feared me, either way, they respected me. But now...I'm just...Klaus's son again."
"I thought that's what you wanted."
Marcel hung his head. "I wanted my family back. I wanted Klaus...but I want respect too." Tilting his head back up to Kol, he muttered, "Is it too much to ask for both?"
Kol slung his arm over Marcel's shoulders. "I don't know the answer to that, mate. What I do know is how to take your mind off of it. Let's go stir up a little trouble in Algiers."
As Kol started walking in the direction of Algiers, Marcel said, "I can't. I've been gone long enough. Oliver's probably missing me."
Kol groaned as his plans for fun were immediately dashed down. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "I guess it's for the best. Pretty sure the little bugger earned himself an Elijah Specialty for throwing a tantrum during lunch."
"He did what?" Marcel barked, stunned by the news. Fishing his phone from his pocket, he realized he had two missed calls from Rebekah and a text message that said, 'Don't freak out. But I let Elijah spank Ollie.'
I know I promised 2 scenes this chap but time got away from me *crying emoji* Not edited btw, but hopefully satisfactory?
