In which Marcel needs to eat a Snickers. He's not him when he's hungry.
Klaus very much treats him as a child in this chapter. He won't always go this far, but Marcel is in need of some TLC!
"I don't care what it takes!" Marcel thunders to his army. "We need to get those daggers from the witches before they do even more damage to them. So, maybe put your 5 brain cells together and just figure out a way to do it without getting yourselves killed!"
Joshua opens his mouth to speak but Thierry smacks his hand over it. Marcel can't make out all of what he mutters.
"You want to speak up there?"
Thierry shakes his head. "No, sir."
Marcel's eyes darken as venom seeps into his skin. Several members take a step back, while Thierry keeps a tight grip on Joshua. "You're refusing an order from your commander?"
Thierry opens his mouth to speak but it's not his voice that breaks through. "Marcellus!"
Marcel rolls his eyes before whipping around. His father enters the room, arms folded over his chest. He points a finger at him.
"Go to your room."
Marcel scoffs. "No."
Klaus raises a brow. "I beg your pardon?"
"No! I'm the king here! And if you have a problem with my men, you can get the hell out!"
Much to his surprise, Klaus doesn't react. Rather, his father walks around him and faces the vampires in front of him. He looks each of them in the eye.
"Go home. Forget my son ever had this tantrum."
Marcel growls. He tries to grab his army, but they are quick to exit the room. Klaus turns to face him, his face still calm. Marcel's venom only intensifies.
"You can't do that!" He roars. "They are mine !"
"They are not your property, Marcellus. Something you know deep down."
"When I told you we could run this together, I didn't expect for you to completely overrun my authority!" Marcel rolls up his sleeves. "You'll learn about that!"
He charges for his father. In a whoosh, he's locked in Klaus' arms. Marcel struggles against him. He feels weaker than usual when it comes to being manhandled by the hybrid. His growls turn into whines.
"Let go of me!"
"Not until you calm down."
Klaus keeps a hold on him as he walks over to the couch. For a moment, Marcel worries he'll have to find a way off his father's knee. Instead, he's pulled onto his lap. Klaus adjusts him into a cradle position. Marcel pushes at his arms, but his papa ignores him. Klaus bites his own wrist and holds it out.
"Drink," he demands.
"What?! No!" Marcel kicks his legs, continuing to push against him. "Put me down."
"Marcellus, this is not a request. You will drink from my wrist right now or things will be so much worse for yourself."
Klaus moves his wrist closer to Marcel's mouth. The younger vampire stares at it for a moment before latching on. He sucks on the blood, allowing the warmth to drip down his throat. The venom slowly fades back beneath his skin as his eyes brighten. Little by little, all the tense muscles in Marcel's body relax.
It's been a good century since he last drank directly from Klaus' vein. In the beginning, it was to ensure the newborn vamp wasn't draining humans until their deaths. The second Marcel seemed to be going out of control, Klaus pulled him out of the room and held the wrist to his lips, feeding him as a mother would their child. Later, he'd feel like a dumb baby for it, but in the moment, nothing tasted sweeter.
Klaus eventually pulls his wrist back and heals it. Marcel pants as his papa wipes at his bloody face with a handkerchief. He gazes down at him with stern yet loving, protective blue eyes.
"Better?" Marcel slowly nods. "You haven't been taking good care of yourself, have you?" The young man opens his mouth to rebut. "Do not lie to me. When's the last time you had blood?"
"Just now."
Klaus smacks his thigh and he frowns. "Do not get smart with me, young man."
Marcel sighs. "I…I don't know."
"And eaten an actual meal?" Marcel shrugs. "Slept?" Marcel squirms in his father's arms, trying to break free. Klaus doesn't let up. "If you can't remember, it's far too long. You know better than this!"
"I've been a little busy!" Marcel argues. "Trying to deal with this issue regarding the witches. I'm trying to protect the city! My men!"
"Yes, because screaming and threatening gets you anywhere!"
"Well, they won't remember. You compelled them."
"Something tells me I shouldn't have. It only enabled these actions." Klaus shakes his head. "I'm going to correct that."
"You'll give them their memories back?"
"No. There's no point now. Rather, I'm going to teach you how to become a proper king. And that means until I believe you are ready, you're a prince."
Marcel gasps. "You can't do that!"
"Oh, I can," Klaus says, his voice firm.
Marcel smacks against his chest, desperately trying to break free. Even the hybrid blood was not enough to completely build up his strength. It dawns on him that's why Klaus pulled away. He wants him weak for his punishment.
"This was your plan all along!" Marcel screams. "You wanted to trick me into relinquishing power!"
Klaus shakes his head, not even having to move to keep Marcel in his arms. "Believe it or not, no."
"You're right!" Marcel pounds his chest. "I don't believe it!"
"Stop hitting me," Klaus' voice grows low.
"No!"
Marcel swings again, this time getting Klaus in the face. His father flips him over his knee and smacks his bottom three times. Marcel screams.
"I wanted to put this off," he says, laying down two more spanks. "Until you calmed down and we can chat! But, it seems you need it now!"
Marcel scratches at his father's legs. Klaus ignores him and rips down the young man's jeans, followed by his boxers. He adjusts him, paddling his hand down his right cheek, following suit with the left. Marcel kicks his legs, the house slippers, pants and underwear falling to the floor. Klaus smacks each thigh twice. Marcel pounds the couch.
"Stop!"
"No."
Klaus continues to go up and down his behind, taking special care of his sit spot.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
Little by little, the anger drains from Marcel and is replaced with sadness. Tears fill his eyes.
"Owwwwie!" He cries out. "Papaaaa!"
"You will not neglect your health," Klaus lectures, popping his thighs three times. "You" SMACK! "Are too" SMACK!"Important to me!" SMACK! SMACK!"Don't you see what this does?! Turns you into a very naughty boy!"
Marcel wails, both from the spanking and being called naughty. The tears drip down his face, the salty taste brushing across his lips.
"You" SMACK! "will never speak to your men that way ever again!" SMACK! SMACK! "You shall not turn into me! Are we clear!"
"Ahhh!" Marcel wails. "Y…yes, Papa! I'll be a good boy!"
"Yes, you shall. Unless you want to spend even more time over your papa's knee or with your nose in a corner!"
Marcel screams out as the last 5 spanks are administered to his bottom. Those melt into sobs as Klaus rubs his bottom. Some of the pain is taken away, but Marcel's pain mixes in with his shame and embarrassment.
"Now," Klaus' voice is softer now. "You shall get your cuddles but not right away. First, you will go in a corner. Then, you will change and eat. Are we clear?" Marcel nods. "What was that?"
He lets out a shaky breath. "Y…yes, Papa."
Klaus stands up, still holding him in his arms. He selects the corner and sets the sniffling boy down. Marcel puts his hands on his head, just as he's supposed to in timeout. Klaus wipes his tears with his thumb. Marcel whimpers, his eyes still wet. Exhaustion creeps across his sore body.
"Keep your nose in this corner," Klaus whispers kindly. "Papa shall return in a bit."
Marcel nods, remaining in place. Whenever his eyes begin to shut, his body shakes and he's reminded of his painful bottom. His arms grow stiff as his hands is forced to hold his head. It only then occurs to him that he's half-naked and not far from a window. Luckily, the army won't come across him. Yet, he knows Caroline is somewhere around here.
Sure enough, he hears her soft, perplexed voice.
"Oh."
Klaus' scent appears. "Marcel is reflecting on why we drink our blood, eat food and sleep regularly." Marcel blushes. "He's out of sorts today."
"Ah," Caorline's voice grows sympathetic. "Do you need anything?"
"Fix him something?" Marcel squirms over them talking about him as if he's not there. "Nothing big, he'll be going to bed in a bit."
"I know just the thing."
Marcel picks a spot on the wall and stares at it. Embarrassment mixes in with exhaustion and sorrow. He's being treated like a child.
Which is exactly how he acted that night.
Eventually, Klaus is by his side. He's turned around to face him. In Klaus' arms is a pair of sweatpants and one of the hybrid's shirts.
"We can forgo boxers, but you do need to wear some form of protection around a lady," Klaus explains.
Marcel nods, grateful. As a child, Klaus carried him throughout the house nude after Elijah's spankings, allowing his bottom to air. He tries to put on the pants, hopping every few seconds. Klaus helps him maneuver them and makes sure they're comfy.
"Arms up."
Marcel starts to argue but gives in. The shirt that smells a mix of paint and expensive cologne is pulled over his head. Klaus lifts him back into his arms and carries him into the kitchen. He settles into a chair, putting his son on his lap. Even with the padding of the comfy sweats, Marcel yelps and bounces a little. Klaus hushes him. Caroline walks over, holding a bowl of yogurt with granola and fruit sprinkled in.
"You'll eat a good breakfast tomorrow," she says, placing the bowl on the table. "I'll cook."
Marcel nods, rubbing at his eyes. "Thank you, Caroline," he whispers, still embarrassed over her seeing him sitting on his papa's lap with a sore bottom like a 5 year old.
Caroline smiles. "Of course." She kisses his cheek and squeezes Klaus' shoulder before leaving the room.
Marcel picks at the yogurt. Truth is, he hasn't eaten in weeks. His mind is so bogged down, he simply twirls the spoon, mixing everything together. Klaus rubs his back.
"Eat, Little Warrior," Klaus says.
Marcel shakes his head. "I'm not very hungry, Papa."
"You need to put something in you before you shut your eyes. Here." Klaus grabs the spoon and holds it to his lips. Marcel frowns. "I know, I know. But you're tired and sore. Indulge your papa."
Marcel rubs at his eyes and nods. Klaus slips in the spoonful. In the moment of hunger, something as simple as yogurt is the best thing he's ever tasted. He continues to open his mouth so he's fed. Klaus smiles at him, wiping at his face every so often. It's gone quickly.
"Would you like more?" Klaus asks, scraping the last into his son's mouth. Marcel shakes his head. "Then it's off to bed."
Once again, he's carried. Klaus brings him to his room and pulls back the duvet. He tucks Marcel in before laying beside him and wrapping his arms around him.
"You're grounded," Klaus whispers. Marcel looks up at him, shocked. "You shall come to my house and stay with us where I can keep an eye on you. I'll make sure you eat, have your blood and get some proper sleep."
"But the witches…"
"While you recover, it's my responsibility. Once you're well, we'll discuss you taking on your old role." Marcel frowns. "No matter what you think, this wasn't my intention when I moved down here, Marcellus. I wanted to run this kingdom with you. But as your father, I cannot let this continue."
Reluctantly, Marcel nods. "I'm sorry, Papa."
"I know you are, my little warrior." Klaus kisses his temple. "You get some rest, alright? I will not leave you."
Marcel allows his eyes to shut as he rests his head on Klaus' shoulder. His papa scratches his back, just as he used to when he had trouble sleeping as a child. It doesn't take much longer for the warrior to knock out.