Dispersora | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 14

Yara cheered from the sidelines.

"Oh, I wish I could make this a centerpiece somewhere," she said when Klaus brought her Francesca's head as proof of her death. "Good job, both of you."

"I admit I did not do nearly as much as I would have liked to," said Elijah, adjusting his cufflinks. "Niklaus seemed to think it a game that he had to win."

"Well, brother," said Klaus smugly, "I was fighting not only on my behalf but on behalf of Yara, who could not be present, and the child she carries inside her, who I am sure would have packed a powerful punch given the Guerreras attempted to kill her."

"Yes, whatever, I appreciate you fighting for me, I lit a candle in your absence," said Yara, waving her hand. "But our celebration must be short-lived, much as I would like to watch the cartel fall piece by piece. Next order of business. Cami called while you were out. Kieran passed. I know you won't be happy to hear this but Marcel may have snuck by St. Anne's to be with them in those final moments despite the exile. I did tell him you two would be busy."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. No head for you." He snatched back Francesca's head, making it shake in disappointment when Yara started to laugh.

"I didn't think it a bad thing," she insisted. "She needed him and Father Kieran was his friend, too. I'd like to lift the exile just for the next twenty-four hours. He should be there to support her during the wake and procession. Which we're attending."

"I'd expect nothing less," said Elijah. "Let me bathe and we will go."

Klaus examined his bloody clothes, posing for Yara's entertainment. "Reckon I look the part for the stages of the–"

"Oh, you insensitive prat, that's for Easter and it's barely January! Go and shower, you smell horrid."

"I don't recall you complaining last time I was covered in–"

"As you so wisely said, no head for you."

"Pity, I was just starting to look forward to it," he said dejectedly.

When they were cleaned up, Yara led them to Rousseau's, where Cami was throwing her uncle an Irish-style wake. After offering her condolences, Yara immediately got to work passing out food and drinks, making sure Cami didn't have to worry about the wake running smoothly. In her mind, one of the worst things about losing a loved one was having to deal with all the people surrounding you; it could be nice for a time but it very quickly became suffocating and frustrating to deal with their behavior while already in mourning.

"There you are," she said, reaching out to hug Marcel when he passed her. "My sweet boy."

"I'd ask you to share a drink with me in Kieran's honor but," Marcel gestured to her belly. "Got anything without alcohol here?"

"Water, and that's about it."

"Good enough."

He took a shot of tequila while she drank water out of a wine glass. Yara stared at the pictures of Father Kieran, Cami, and her twin brother Sean, propped up against the bar and causing her to feel a pang in her heart.

I don't want my daughter to experience loss like this.

"Excuse me, everyone," said Marcel, taking an entire bottle of scotch and toasting the party. The attendees went silent. "I know I haven't been around these parts lately. It's a testament to Father Kieran that we could come together and share a drink, and a story or two. Kieran rolled into town on a rusty old cruiser after his daddy died twenty-five years ago. And dammit, that guy could party!" The audience laughed good naturedly. "That was, of course, before he took his vows. But, even then, he was committed to the Quarter. He knew that this town needed him. And, we still do. To Father K!"