Battle (The Originals Fan Fic)

ch. 1: Always and Forever

After Jane-Anne's death, the witches were gathered around her body, holding candles and saying a prayer.

There was a lot of whistling. Vampires climbed over cars, jumping off of rooftops, walking in the streets, surrounding the witches.

"Well, well, well," Marcel said. "What have we here?" He looked at Sophie Deveraux. "I got to tell you, Soph, this street corner is not proving the luckiest spot for your family tonight." Sophie stood. Diego transformed, hissing. The witches watched nervously. "Not half an hour ago, we had to teach your sister a little lesson."

"We're putting her to rest, Marcel," Sophie told him. "Leave us alone."

"I never said you could move the body," Marcel told her. "Matter of fact, I left her here for a reason, send a message." He looked around the crowd of witches. "If anybody is thinking of joining some kind of rebellion, my rules state that witches can't practice magic in the Quarter, and yet a little birdie informed me that Jane-Anne was cooking up something magically delicious. Oh, yeah. While I have you, quick Q&A. My old friend, the hybrid, Klaus, he just happened to show up out of the blue asking for, of all people, Jane-Anne. Any idea why?"

"I don't know," Sophie told him. "Witches don't get involved in vampire business."

Marcel walked closer to her. "Mm, that would be pretty stupid, that's for sure." He circled around her. "Tell you what. Go back to the restaurant. Cook up some of that famoud gumbo and keep those tourists happy." He looked at me. "Take the body."

"What?" Sophie asked. I stepped toward the body. Sophie tried to stop me. "No. Stop. Stop." Thierry and Diego held her back. "Marcel--"

"We're gonna hold on to your sister's body in case maybe you remember why Klaus is here," I told her.

"Noah, please," Sophie told me. "Her body won't be at peace."

"Not our problem," I sang, carrying the body away, following the others.

*

At the compound abattoir, everyone was drinking, dancing, partying to the music, having a good time.

When yet another confrontation between Klaus and Marcel brought everyone's attention to it.

"Hey, man," Marcel told him. "Where'd you run off to?"

"You mean your minions aren't still documenting my every move?" Klaus asked.

"Someone put you in a mood," Marcel told him. "What can I do?"

"What you can do is you can tell me what this thing is you have with the witches," Klaus told him.

"You know I owe you everything I got, but I'm afraid I have to draw the line on this one," Marcel told him. "This is my business. I control the witches in my town. Let's just leave it at that."

"Your town?" Klaus repeated.

"Damn straight," Marcel answered.

"That's funny, because when I left 100 years ago, you were just a pathetic little scrapper still trembling from the lashes of the whips of those who would keep you down, and now look at you," Klaus told him. "Master of your domain. Prince of the city." The music stopped. The crowd watched them. "I'd like to know how."

"Why?" Marcel asked. "Jealous? Hey, man, I get it. Three hundred years ago, you helped build a back water penal colony into something. You started it, but then you left. Actually, you ran from it. I saw it through. Look around. Vampires rule this city now. I got rid of the werewolves. I even found a way to shut down the witches. The blood never stops flowing, and the party never ends. You wanna pass on through? You wanna stay a while? Great. What's mine is yours, but it is mine. My home, my family, my rules."