Operatic Tragedy | Mikael

Chapter Eleven

 "You are Armand de Rochambeau."

 Mikael stood in the doorway, glaring at Pierre with hard, cold eyes.

 "Took you long enough, didn't it?" Pierre said, tossing Marguerite's heart on the floor next to her body. "But why would you remember me? I am only one of the many victims of the Mikaelson family, the ones who had their lives ruined."

 "It took time, but I remembered. I've never been good with faces, but I knew there was something familiar about you." Mikael stepped into the room. "1622. Courtesy of myself and my family, your entire family was killed. But you were not. You died with vampire blood in your bloodstream, and it saved you. When I was leaving, I told not-"

 "Oh, not to drink any blood?" Pierre laughed. "Well, you should have just killed me then if you didn't want me turn. You left without ever making sure I was dead. Of course I drank someone's blood! How was I to know how to control it!? I didn't even know what I was! I had no one!"

 "Clearly, you found a way past that," Mikael said calmly.

 "Oh, I did. I met people, and I learned everything I could about the Mikaelsons, and I was disgusted with what I learned. You don't care about anyone but yourselves. It doesn't matter how many people you hurt and kill or how many lives you ruin as long as you get what you want! Nothing to say, hmm?" Pierre sat down in the chair in the chair by the fireplace. "I'm no fool, Mikael. I know this is the part where you kill me and finish the job."

 Mikael stared down his opponent in this war of words. This man was clearly insane, probably mad from grief and revenge. Mikael wasn't much of a match to him in a war of words, but he was centuries older, and had greater strength.

 "Why did you kill Marguerite?" he asked. "She did nothing wrong."

 "Nothing wrong?" Pierre laughed again. "Perhaps not, but she was getting closer to the truth, and we couldn't have that, could we? I was quite fond of her myself. Like me, she had lost everything that truly meant something to her, and we each held onto the only thing we had. She held onto her career, and I held onto my thoughts of revenge. What, not going to kill me yet? I thought you were far more brutal than this." He leaned forward. "Unless you're getting soft. Perhaps so many years of traveling alone without any idea where your enemy is has harmed you more than you thought it could."

 "Enough of this." Mikael grabbed Pierre by the throat. "Why did you compose that opera?"

 "Why do you think? Revenge, man, revenge! I wanted everyone, the entire world to know what you are. Of course, I couldn't use your real names and the real situation; that would be far too obvious. But I substituted, and I found a way. I even used my own name as a replacement for Mikaelson. However, I didn't know when or if any of the Mikaelsons would ever see the opera for themselves. I certainly hadn't thought one of them would be there for opening night. So, you are Marguerite's mysterious suitor. I should have known the Mikaelsons had something to do with it."

 Mikael shook his head. "You truly are mad. You thought you could get revenge this way, didn't you? You can't. There are ways, but not the way you did it."

 "Ha! You think I care? The is the greatest thing I have accomplished since becoming a vampire. You are the one who is mad, Mikael. You think that you can murdering Klaus and further distancing yourself form the rest of your children is the perfect solution. Oh, yes, you are mad. I can see it in your eyes. I know what a madman looks like. I have seen it in the mirror more times than I can say. Ah!" He winced as Mikael's grip on his neck tightened. "Well, kill me, then. I know it's what you're here for. You don't care about me. Perhaps you cared about Marguerite, but she's dead. Let me say these last words: neither of us will live to have our revenge. We'll both die violent deaths at the hands of our enemy. You'll see, Mikael. Someday, my words will ring true. You wait-"

 Those were the final words of Armand de Rochambeau before Mikael tore his head clean off, and the rest of his body slumped to the floor.

 "You should have stayed out of it," Mikael said.

 He dropped the head on the floor and knelt down over Marguerite's body. Her eyes will still open, wide with shock and pain. Mikael gently closed them before standing up straight again and quietly leaving.