Marcel stared up at the sky and thought, 'Oh Lord! Why is this happening?' He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Time to get back to work. He reminded himself. However, there was a problem – which issue should he tackle first?
Marcel debates for a long time whether he should help track down Freya's whereabouts or aid Klaus in his search for sustenance. He doesn't want to do either. He has come to regret the part he played in helping Klaus trap Elijah. He never realized how much effort went into keeping Klaus semi-sane.
"Ma'am," Marcel said. The old woman snarled at him. "You monster, what more do you want?"
Marcel ignored her outburst and told her he was actually a friend of Vincent, hoping that knowledge would make her more willing to help them. He asked her if she could do a tracking spell on the owner of this hair, politely.
The older woman glanced down at the bag containing the hair needed for the spell.
"Don't worry, you aren't helping him hurt anyone. It belongs to his sister. Klaus just needs to track her down."
The old woman sighed in relief and took the bag without a word. Marcel pursed his lips together and looked at all the grim faces of the witches around him. He glanced over at the dead body lying not far away. He sighed.
" I'll leave it to you then. I'll send someone else to retrieve the location once you manage to pinpoint it."
The old woman looked very displeased. Marcel doesn't let it bother him, she can do whatever she wants but Marcel is trying to help her.
Marcel is completely confused by Klaus' erratic behavior. Klaus' actions of provoking the coven like this in broad daylight are unhinged. His behavior is reckless, but never like this. What was he thinking?
The witches are not something to be trifled with, and Freya is not even here to help them with any witch-related problems. God forbid if one of the witches is sly enough to cast a hex on them. Marcel frowned. He hoped for all of their sake Freya would be found immediately.
The moment Marcel left the territory, a daywalker fell into step beside him. Marcel exhaled and looked at his minion's extremely concerned face.
"Klaus?" The daywalker nodded. "He's been kidnapping people in broad daylight." Marcel was not even a little bit surprised, since Klaus had just committed a murder in broad daylight on a busy street in front of the witch community.
However, the next sentence coming from his minion causes alarm; the authorities are not pleased.
Marcel frowned and grabbed Troy by his shoulder. "What do you mean?"Marcel asked.
Troy replied while grimacing. "He is being sloppy. Not sloppy, just that he seems like he doesn't care anymore. He didn't even bother to compel them. He is just straight-up taking tourists off the streets."
Marcel growled and his followers cowered. Great. More things to take care of. Is he now Klaus's baby sitter since Elijah is out of commission? It does feel like he is.
Meanwhile, Klaus is back at the castle."She is a pretty little thing. Do you not like her?"
Elijah ignores him and his offering. Klaus snorts, impatiently grabbing the girl by her hair, and cutting her throat, letting the blood drip into the wine glass and holding it out to his brother. Hopefully, it would make her more palatable.
Elijah looks at the proffered wineglass with disinterest and glances at the open window. Klaus grinds his teeth and grabs Elijah's shoulder, pulling him closer to him.
Elijah allowed himself to be pulled forward. He looked at his brother, whose face wavered between concern, impatience, and relief.
He looked at Klaus. He felt detached, tired. Tired of living in captivity. Having nothing to do but watch out the window. All he could see was the sky from where he was sitting, and nothing else. The last and not least he is tired of Klaus antics. He wants to be free of him at least a couple decades.
Klaus swallows as he meets Elijah's cold gaze staring at him. It doesn't matter. Elijah can be as cold as he wants towards him; Klaus won't let anything superficial like that deter him. He convinces himself of this. Furthermore, the fact that Elijah's strength is waning is far more worrisome.
Today, he is going to make sure that his brother replenishes himself. Klaus will not be denied. He'll make it happen, no matter what it takes.
Klaus stares at Elijah wistfully and says, "You haven't had anything to drink in a month." Elijah snorts, "It must have slipped your mind."
Klaus grimaced. "I'm here to amend that."
He pressed the wineglass to his brother's lips, but Elijah didn't drink; he just looked at it in apathy. Klaus cupped his brother's face, his thumb stroking Elijah's cheek gently. He tried to coax him into drinking. Klaus tilted the glass slowly, letting the blood reach Elijah's lips. Klaus released the breath he had been holding, thinking that he might have succeeded, but Elijah moved his face away and pushed Klaus' hand away.
"Why do you care?" He asked, squinting at him with a cynical smile plastered on his face, judging him. Klaus gritted his teeth. Yeah, just keep rubbing it in about how he is a terrible brother to Elijah and Rebekah. So terrible that he isn't worthy of their loves or affection.
"You didn't care, before." Elijah drawled. Staring at him passively.
Klaus rubbed his nose and mouth anxiously. He had nothing to say to that. Couldn't Elijah understand? He was trying. He was trying his hardest to fight his desires and nature. He wanted Elijah to see that he was different, changed for the better. He was trying to be the person Elijah aspired him to be.
He stared at his brother, but nothing came forth from his mouth, and as time passed, he grew increasingly impatient. There was something wrong; they were wasting precious time. Elijah's condition could be worsening, and where the hell was Marcel?
Stop making me worry and drink this. Klaus thrust the wineglass at his brother. Elijah slapped the glass away, and the blood sloshed violently, some spilling over Elijah's shirt and onto his hands. The scent of blood filled the air, and Klaus's eyes changed. Tempted by the smell of the blood.
"I have gone longer without ingesting blood. Have you forgotten all the times you've staked me and put me in coffins?" Elijah sneered at him. Klaus grimaced.
"Please, he said, drink this." Klaus offered the wineglass to his older brother again, trying a gentler approach this time. Hoping somehow it would make Elijah more agreeable.
Elijah brushes him off with a disinterested glance before looking at the open window, ignoring him. The sound of the jovial crowd outside is testing Klaus's patience; it feels like the voices are mocking his failure.
Klaus held his breath and blinked slowly, willing his eyes to return to their normal color. He shouldn't get riled up; he needed a cool head to face this. Elijah was trying to make him lose himself in anger, but no, Klaus wasn't going to let him take control of this situation. He had come here on a mission, and he intended to follow through.
He glanced back at his brother's pristine white shirt, which was now drenched in blood. His eyes changed again to yellow at the sight. Red looked great on him.
Elijah noticed the way Klaus' eyes lingered on him. He stared at Klaus with bewilderment. Klaus hadn't even acted ashamed that he realized Elijah had caught him staring. Instead, he let his eyes drink in the sight before him. The way the shirt stuck to Elijah's skin. His eyes they were drawn to it
This is the first time Klaus has ever seen Elijah not in immaculate condition; his clothes are rumpled, his hair in disarray, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing his collarbone. He looks vulnerable.
A thought crossed his mind. Elijah was vulnerable. Klaus had been reminded of this fact time and time again throughout these past years. Every single event and every single person he lost. Elijah, who he thought was invincible. Elijah, the brother he had come to rely on; he had come close to losing him...a few times. Klaus clenched his jaw, thinking back to all the events. It was too many times. Klaus realized that may have been what made him do what he did. Imprisoning Elijah like this. Elijah can hate him all he wants, but Klaus can't take any more chances.
A world without Elijah... it's something that he can't even begin to fathom. Elijah has been there for him... and has always been there.
Klaus shakes his morose thoughts away. Now is not the time for that. He needs a clear head; he places the glass on the bedside table. There is only a little blood left - not more than a sip. What a waste of perfectly good meal. Klaus had spent time trying to choose the most palatable-looking human with blood type matching his brother's preferences. Now, all of it has gone to waste.
He casts a wistful glance at Elijah, and his breath catches. His brother looks like a perfect Renaissance painting depicting a trapped prince in a castle chained to a bed by his captors. How Elijah looked outside, longing for his freedom, but you would see he was wrong in the end. His captor wasn't the villain of the story; they were trying to save him from himself. His recklessness would lead to his downfall. Elijah would see this and eventually they would live happily ever after, just like before.
"Why won't you understand me? All I want is for you to not abandon me at every chance you get. I care about your well-being. I will take care of you. I will do and give anything you desire. You will want for nothing." Klaus sighed and gazed at his brother forlornly.
"Can't you just give it a chance? Stay. I'll prove it to you, Elijah." His pleading fell on deaf ears. Disappointment filled Klaus's heart.
I see. You are stubbornly sticking to your decision. You are so intent on making me become your enemy, said Klaus bitterly.
Elijah looked at the wine glass, then back at Klaus, whose expression became closed off. It was completely unreadable - it felt ominous. When Klaus was silent, it was never a positive sign. If Elijah had been paying closer attention, if he had been more wary, perhaps he would have been able to avoid his current predicament. But he felt lethargic; he was already in chains. What was the worst that could happen after this?
Elijah watched as Klaus stared at him; his mouth moved to say something before he pressed his lips together and changed his mind at the last moment.
Klaus sighed in defeat and turned away in anger. Elijah was not surprised when his younger brother slammed the door shut behind him.
Rage consumed Klaus as he thought back on his brother. Elijah had stared back at him with a detached expression, devoid of any hint of affection. This was too similar to the version of Elijah that he had encountered in Monasque. Klaus couldn't stand it; his brother was infuriating and stubborn.
Klaus went berserk and threw things around the castle. He didn't care if Elijah heard him; he wanted Elijah to know that he was the one who pushed him to the edge. He responsible for this.
Marcel's underlings watched him from the shadows. He became aware of their presence only after he had finished; he looked straight at them. He could sense their fear. Good, they should fear him; he is not to be trifled with. Raising his chin arrogantly, he called out to them.
"Don't test me. Never come back here again if you value your life," he said. They scurried away, and he felt satisfied that at least one thing he wanted had happened.
He doesn't want anyone lingering around the quarters where he keeps Elijah. Elijah is vulnerable – the way he is chained and weakened, and Klaus doesn't want any of his half-witted, lowborn vampires getting any funny ideas.
Klaus opened the safe and gazed upon the dagger inside, tracing its sharp edge with his fingertip. He pondered. Klaus clenched his jaw and suppressed the pain welling up within him. Gripping the dagger firmly in his right hand, he made his decision. After all, this was all Freya's fault for not being here and of course, abandoning him too in the end. They are all the same, every single one of them. They will take each other's side, but never mine. In the end, they will always betray me.