To Love A Sociopath

bargain

*

Klaus Mikaelson paced back and forth, trying to retain his anger. It wasn't easy, his rage growing as every minute ticked by. When your siblings were under captivity by the son you raised, you wondered how you were going to dismantle every fibre in his body. Not only had Marcel crossed his family, he also had the forces of witches behind him. Somehow, the vampire managed to control the witches with a force so great, it almost seemed like the loyalty was forced.

Klaus's mind was frantic, trying to figure out how he was going to approach the situation. This was interrupted with the boom of the gates. He was standing in the foyer, vampires guarding and circling him. He considered ripping their heads and hearts out but it would be spent energy. Instead he turned, patiently waiting for what Marcel had to say to him. The man, skin a luxurious caramel, walked in like he owned the world, a coy smile against his beautiful face. "Klaus Mikaelson. I never thought the day I'd see you again, you'd be a nervous little school girl."

"Where is Elijah?" Klaus demanded, his jaw ticking with raw vexation. "Where is my sister, Marcel? I am not in the mood to be repeating myself this late at night."

Marcel chuckled, jerking his head to one of his vampires. "Oh! He thinks he can walk in here, into my home, and give me orders?"

A genuine smile broke against Klaus's face and he adjusted his footing. "Your home? I built New Orleans. You didn't bleed for the city like I did. I made the throne, I made the battlefield. All you did was try to steal what was mine when I left."

"When you left?" Marcel snorted, a scoff following as he shook his head. "You mean when you ran away when the city needed you most. You mean when you packed up your shit, took your siblings and left me and the others to burn to the ground. But you know what? You raised me well and I did not give up. I was here, I rebuilt the home you ran from and made it bigger, better, and stronger than you can ever imagine. I mean look how easy it was to sniff out your brother, Elijah," he opened his arms, as if he was welcoming him. "Look how easy it was to take down two Originals. In fact, I'm betting I can take you on as well."

Klaus licked his lips, eyes sliding across all the vampires that were glaring at him, prepared to pounce. The only concern Klaus had was indeed how did Marcel and his forces manage to put his siblings on a leash. They couldn't die, not without the white oak stake, and they were strong enough to avoid sedation. Klaus cocked his head, folding his hands behind his back for a challenge. "So you believe that you are the rightful King to New Orleans, then?"

"You bet I am," Marcel said in a vicious tone, nose flaring.

Klaus circled around the floor, a mischievous grin upon his face. "Then you won't mind if we settle this the old-fashioned way? A spar, just like we used to. You said it yourself, I taught you well so let's put your claim to the test."

"No, no," Marcel shook his head, with a knowing smirk, using his hands to speak. "I know you and I didn't come here to fall for your tricks. I came here to take something from you."

"Is that so? And you didn't deem the kidnapping of my siblings enough to satisfy your needs of taking all that is mine?" Klaus's chest shook with laughter and he clicked his tongue. "Oh, Marcel."

"Cut to the chase, Klaus. We're both aware of why you're here."

"Please, do enlighten me." He was sincerely invested in what he had to say.

"You've heard of the rumours circling around, the things the witches are whispering in the Quarter."

Klaus played along, shrugging. "I can't say that I have not. But these things, these shameful attempts for theatrics are nothing but that, rumours."

Marcel crossed his arms. "And what makes you so sure? The math adds up. You're half-werewolf, you admitted to sleeping with another wolf with no efforts of protection. How is it completely impossible for a baby to be the product of this equation?"

"It just is," Klaus growled deeply, the oncomings of his anger unleashing again. "I've just about lost my patience with you. There is no miracle baby, there never was. You might want to take a look at your allies because they might be trying to turn your eye."

"My allies are perfectly in check," Marcel said boldly, "I am laying my proposition. Tell me where the mother of the kid is and I'll return your brother and sister safe and sound. You know me, I would never hurt any child, especially yours. But it's complicated, the witches are saying things that I am not liking."

Klaus threw his head back, a hardy chuckle releasing from his lips like thunder. His fits of laughter continued, small tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "I never knew you to be such a comedian, Marcellus."

Marcel's face was still and confused. "I wasn't trying to be funny."

"You think that you can bring me back here, threaten my family and insult all that I have built, just to have the audacity to demand such a ridiculous bargain from me? Do you know who I am?" Klaus's eyes glinted gold, veins crackling under his eyes. "I am Niklaus Mikaelson and I do not take orders from anybody. So I am going to give you five seconds, Marcel, to give me the whereabouts of my siblings, take your little cohorts and walk out of here alive. I do hope you can still count because you've proven to be ill in the head."

Klaus didn't waste a beat, impatiently counting down from five. The vampires surrounding him started to fidget, a couple growling. Klaus cracked his neck, shaking his arms to prepare for the fight as he reached three. You could see Marcel's chest huff up and down slowly, trying to determine the odds of the situation. Klaus reached one and just before anyone could pounce on each other, Marcel rose a finger. "Fine." Klaus straightened, adjusting his leather jacket with annoyance. "They're at the Lafayette Cemetery."

Klaus stood still, eyes narrowing. "I feel it necessary to remind you what will happen if you're leading me into a trap. You've grown quite attached to your soldiers," he grinned at each vampire, "but I will not hesitate to burn this city once more if this is foul play, Marcel. I've already mourned it and if this is the King you wish to be, I'd rather destroy New Orleans. Starting with your friends. I will send their heads to your door every night, one by one. And once the massacres have come to an end, I will give you five days to wallow in your regret and misery before coming for yours."

Marcel took a deep breath, taking a step away from the entrance he blocked. "Duly noted."

~

"Crocodile Dundee called. He wants his knife back."

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