Hey guys! Sorry for the delay but its the end of semester which means exams and assignments. Some of which are horrible and some of which I actually enjoyed. Seriously, peaking on an essay you've written in your first year of uni isn't really something you wanna do, but this essay deserved it. (It was on the Chronicles of Narnia and it never fails to amaze me how as I've progressed in years, I've apparently regressed in reading material.) Anyway, it meant I couldn't really return to this and even now, I'm procrastinating studying for an exam but hey, this is not an exam I have very high hopes for either which way so I do NOT feel half as guilty as I should. Still, pray for me, please!
So this chapter was full out hijacked by Marcel. Very rude but hey, I'll take anything that moves me closer to my end visual. I'm really happy with how it turned out and I hope y'all are too. Let me know what you think! And, as always, read, review and enjoy!
When does love turn into obsession? Better yet, when does it become simply pathetic to chase after the woman who broke your heart because she either refused to or just simply couldn't see past her own hangups?
It was questions like these that plagued Marcel every time he picked up his phone and found himself dialing her number. Sometimes, he stopped himself, thumb hesitating a hair's breadth away from his touch screen before he'd close the app and put his phone away. Days like today, he'd give in and take the final step, calling her and listen to a dial tone that was never answered. The recording for her voicemail started and he cursed silently at the way his eyes slid shut of their own accord, hated himself for the way he drank in the sound of her voice, for how he wished, after everything, that she was right there in front of him. His other hand curled around the tumbler on the table in front of him, thumb brushing away the moisture that glistened on the glass and as the message ended, he inhaled deeply, savouring the oxygen he no longer needed. "I don't know why I even bother doing this anymore, it's not as if you're ever going to answer - hell, I don't even know if you bother listening to these." He scoffed, taking a sip of the amber liquid, enjoying the slight burn as it slid down his throat. "Do you know how much it sucks that Hope was more invested in us than you were? It's been weeks since I told her - thanks for that, by the way. I totally could have done without ever having that conversation. Anyway, it's been weeks since I told her and she still hasn't let up on me. At least it's nice to know I'm not the only one you're ghosting. Still, she deserves better than that and you know it. At least she's got her dad back now." The vampire sighed, cutting himself off. This was pathetic enough without adding rambling to the list. "I hope you find what you're looking for Rebekah, even if it isn't me," he ended as always, throwing his phone onto the table and draining the remnants of his drink. A broken chuckle escaped his lips. Mikaelsons. They'd either be his death or his salvation and three hundred years in, he was still figuring which it'd be.
Now, while it would certainly make her life easier, Hope Mikaelson had absolutely no intention of playing nice with Lizzie Saltzman. It didn't matter how much she liked Josie or how much her counselor told her this rivalry was ridiculous, she knew it was ridiculous. But she also knew that she was not going to be the one to back down first. Lizzie seemed to be of the same mind, taking every opportunity she could to antagonize Hope. To the school's endless chagrin, this typically resulted in the wanton destruction of classrooms, but really, it was a school filled entirely with magical teenagers. What did they expect?
Case in point though, it was the third time Lizzie had made a snide remark about the tribrid's inability to master the spell they were practicing today and, despite Josie's best efforts to mediate, the teenager was done putting up with it. It took only a moment for her to decide how to retaliate and she didn't hold back the smug grin that found its way to her lips as the contents of Lizzie's cauldron exploded in her face. That, at least, was a spell she had mastered and she sent a silent thank you to her uncle for it. She was sure he'd be proud of her handiwork.
"I'm sorry, you were saying?" she found herself asking sweetly and, beside her, Josie sighed, the sound nearly inaudible under her twin's shriek of rage. She was prepared for the way the other teen flipped the table; she'd have done it too in her place, considering it was the only thing separating them. She wasn't, however, completely prepared for the small barrage of spells Lizzie sent her way, covering her face with her arm as she braced for the impact. Before they reached her though, a golden shield sprang into existence around her, sparking where the spells hit, but never faltering. On the other side, Lizzie spat insults, but she ignored them, turning to Josie who was near enough to her to also be caught under the shield and breathing a quiet thanks.
The siphoner shook her head jerkily, biting her lip. "This isn't me," she whispered, her gaze dropping, Hope following it until they reached her bracelet. The silver wolf was glowing, hotter than it should have been against her skin and she could almost have sworn its mouth was twisted into a snarl but that - that couldn't be possible. She met Josie's gaze as the shield glimmered once more before disappearing, the other nodding slightly, a silent agreement not to tell anyone until Hope figured it out. More specifically, until she called her dad to demand answers, but she figured Josie, who was currently stalking towards her sister and pulling her outside to cool off, didn't need to know that.
Figuring now was as good a time as any, she swiped her bag from the floor and slipped out in the confusion, making her way to her dorm in a bid for privacy. Her father answered the phone almost immediately, quiet delight in his questioning, "Hope?"
"Hey, Dad. Wanna tell me why a whole shield popped out of nowhere around me today? Or would you like to start with why you gave me a spelled charm in the first place?"
"I don't know, Hope," he replied, amused. "Would you like to tell me why you're getting into fights at school?"
"How do you know I'm getting into fights?"
Her father waved aside her indignation with a simple, "I sincerely doubt Caroline would let anything that meant her students harm within a mile of the grounds. So?" There was a command in that word, well hidden as it was, and Hope found herself responding without fully meaning to.
"Fine. It was Lizzie Saltzman. We… we don't really get along," she mumbled.
"And naturally, your solution is to turn your school into a battleground." Hope bristled at the assumption, about to speak up in defense of herself before a sigh came down through the line. "To answer your earlier question, yes, I had that charm spelled with defensive spells and no, you can't remove them yourself, I've already seen to that. It's a last defense mechanism, it won't be triggered without reason."
"So you don't trust me to be able to take care of myself," the teenager concluded, not bothering to hide the hurt she felt.
"Of course I trust you, Hope," her father soothed. "But I've been taking care of my family for a thousand years. Your safety is not something I ever intend to leave up to mere chance."
"Then why didn't you just tell me?"
"Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't have immediately tried to figure out how it worked and then how to stop it?" She could imagine the unamused look he'd be giving her if they were face to face and had to concede he had a point.
"Fine," she groaned. "But next time, let me know in advance please? I promise I won't be an idiot about it."
"Of course," he agreed, and Hope wondered when the novelty of having someone around who cared enough to do things like this would wear off. As she settled comfortably on her bed to fill her father in on the rest of her day, she hoped it never would.
Marcel hadn't meant to stay in New Orleans, not really. At first, it seemed to make sense that he should. After all, Klaus was back and Marcel had felt compelled to stay since they had needed to make sure none of Greta's vampires remained and he felt at least partially responsible for the supremacist ideology they'd all held faith in. But then, as the days passed by and he couldn't bring himself to leave, he couldn't quite keep up the charade anymore, not to himself at least. He stayed because he wasn't entirely certain where else to go and… he stayed because it was the one place Rebekah couldn't come to. It seemed fitting in that moment, that even if she somehow wanted to see him, she wouldn't be able to. It was the only way he had of punishing her, even to himself. It was better than the alternative - admitting that maybe it was time after all these years to let her go.
Heartbreak aside, it was… strange, spending time with Klaus that didn't place them both in the middle of a war zone. He'd forgotten how it could be, forgotten the way the hybrid amused himself with the simple pleasures that the city had to offer him, the way he immersed himself in art and culture, more alive in those small moments that he spent gazing at artworks than he had ever been while ripping out his enemies' throats. Marcel found himself dragged out to spend his days wandering through galleries with his once father, found himself attending plays or sitting outside small coffee shops, just gazing at the city around him and taking in the sights. He found himself going to Klaus of his own volition, to show him another remembered corner of New Orleans that he hadn't visited in centuries, even pulling out the hybrid when he retreated into his studio for days. He found himself falling in love with the city all over again, not for the power it had once offered him, but for the small pearls of life that he had found, tucked into the wisps of music that curled around him in the streets, for the chalk on the pavement that formed such lovely pictures and were washed away so easily. He fell in love with the coffee, with the way the the streets were lit up at night, with the way the bayou smelled after it rained.
Not even once in the past seven years that he'd spent with Rebekah, had Marcel slowed down the way he had right now, hadn't allowed himself to stop and simply appreciate his surroundings, too caught up in experiencing the world by her side however he could. And… he regretted it. He wouldn't give up his time with her for anything, but… for a moment, he regretted that he had allowed himself to be so swept up in her and his own need for power that he'd forgotten all this.
And right now, as he shared a drink Klaus on the balcony of the Mikaelson manor, looking over the skyline and breathing in the night air, he regretted that he'd allowed his relationship with the man to fall apart so easily, over and over again. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he might not have been as blameless as he'd once assumed and it was a sobering thought. Beside them, Hayley was sipping her own drink, filling them in on her day as Klaus tried to convince her to come to some art exhibition with him. He was jerked away from his thoughts at the sound of his name.
"What's wrong with just taking Marcel? He'd actually enjoy it."
Klaus rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I think I've dragged Marcel out to enough galleries by now that he's probably sick of them." He turned to the vampire, gesturing at Hayley vaguely as he did so, the implication of 'help me' clear in the action.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind going," he found himself saying, to his surprise. "Besides, like Hayley pointed out, at least I'll be able to appreciate it. Unlike some people, I happen to have taste," he teased, the brunette laughing even as she directed a crude gesture his way.
Before Klaus could respond to his offer though, a phone rang, the ringtone cutting through the pleasant atmosphere. "Pretty sure that's mine," Hayley groaned, making to get up before Klaus waved her off, speeding into the room behind them to retrieve her phone.
"So," Marcel began, drawing the word out. "You wanna tell me what exactly is up between you and him?" He grinned at the look she sent at him, holding his hands up in the universal peace sign. "Just saying. I like to think I know the both of you well enough to know when something's off."
Hayley grinned wolfishly, settling back in her seat, but before she could speak, Klaus returned, phone pressed to his ear as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. They could make out a woman's voice yelling on the other side. "It's Rebekah," he informed them and Marcel couldn't help the lump at formed in his throat at the mention of her name.
"You didn't tell her?" Hayley hissed at the hybrid.
On the other end of the line it seemed the gist of Rebekah's ranting amounted to the same thing, Klaus responding to both as he said, "its a little difficult to hold a conversation when someone doesn't ever answer her phone."
He rolled his eyes as this set off a new tirade, sending Marcel an apologetic look before putting the phone on speaker, her voice filling the air around them. "-that's hardly an excuse, Nik, and you know it!" It took a few moments to get over the shock of hearing her voice and shove aside all the emotions it evoked, but once he did, Marcel leaned against the balcony to enjoy her fury against Klaus's amused irritation as she ripped into him and Hayley for leaving her to find out about her brother's return on her own.
It was only afterwards that he wondered how she'd found out in the first place. Wondered if this meant she listened to her voicemails afterall. He wasn't sure which answer would disappoint him more.
Heya! So, a couple things. Marcel's been in love with Rebekah basically his entire existence. And they're cute together. But damn, boy needs to start live his own life first and figure out what he wants besides power and control. Like, even when he was in charge of New Orleans, what did he do? Party? Be a douche? Idk man, I wasn't very impressed. Just cause he's technically dead doesn't mean he shouldn't live. To reach that end neither Vincent nor Hayley felt particularly appropriate. And I suppose Josh is technically alive in this story's timeline but I'm not going to lie, I completely forgot about his existence until like 2 seconds ago. An besides, he and Josh never really had that kind of relationship, not really. There is a power imbalance between them and Josh, for all that he'd be the voice of reason, knew that. Also, I wanna fix his and Klaus's relationship, sue me. But Klaus canonically would be far more chill if given the option. Besides being in love with the arts, in season 2 when they bring in his birth dad for 2 episodes, he mentions following Klaus around and noting how much he liked shit like climbing Everest. In season 3 when we're shown flashbacks, it's Elijah who's getting invested in politics with Tristan while Klaus and Lucien are messing around, chilling with the horses. And, if I remember correctly, the first time we're shown Klaus stepping up and taking charge is when Rebekah falls for that hunter dude who made the sleep knives. (I think that was in the vamp diaries) and honestly, I'm really confused about how and why I remember all this stuff when I haven't seen these seasons in 3 years but I don't remember what I studied in class last week. But anyway, I want them to bond and even though there wasn't a lot of that, I do hope to show it more going forward.
Oh and in the Hope segment, Klaus isn't like compelling her or some ish, that's just that parent thing where they tell you to do something and you do it because parents. Do drop a review if you have any questions/comments or just if this made you emote in any way :)