•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Klaus, we need to talk."

Ever since the compound has opened back up to the Mikaelson reign, things have moved rather quickly. Klaus has taken over, Marcel has bowed down, and the factions are left scrambling in confusion and fear as to how Klaus Mikaelson managed to become king. Again.

However, despite all this, Arabella hasn't forgotten the deal they made back in Mystic Falls. Equal Rulership. She knew what that meant, always. It meant Klaus would be king, but she would still have control and a say as to what went down. Especially with the witches.

Klaus hasn't exactly made a move against them yet, but Arabella can tell he plans to. And soon. She just needs to jog his memory before he does something that will make her regret coming here in the first place.

It's mid morning as Arabella walks into his bedroom, some boxes of his furniture and art supplies laying in corners. Klaus normally compels others to set up his things, but as for his art supplies, he prefers to do that himself.

He looks up from where he had been setting paint brushes into containers, turning his attention back to them at seeing who it is.

"What about?"

"Our deal," At this, Klaus sets his brushes down and turns, arching a brow at her. Arabella taps her fingers against her leg nervously, pushing down the raising anxiety. "I was promised equal rulership."

"I wasn't aware I did anything to give you any other impression."

"You haven't. Yet," She points out, taking a step forward. "I'm not gonna sit around and wait for you snap at them, Klaus. Let me handle the witches-- that includes Davina Claire. They're not just your little weapons to use at will, do you understand me?" His brows raise at her order. "We agreed that I cover that faction, and you're going to let me."

Klaus studies her for a moment, surprised by this newfound confidence. Now, Arabella is a confident person, and she knows her worth, which he admires. But asserting her power to him... that's a fairly new one. At least, since they've arrived here in NOLA.

Arabella doesn't expect Klaus to speed up right in front of her, so when he does so, she's a little caught off guard, to say the least. However, instead of stepping back from his extremely close proximity, she stands her ground and stares him squarely in the eyes... only the eyes. She won't let her gaze drift down and grant him that amusement. 

"You're getting bolder," He observes, a hand snaking up to tuck her curls behind her ear. A small smile quirks on his lips at the goosebumps that appear on her neck at his lingering touch, her heartbeat only quickening as he leans down. Arabella holds her breath and looks up at the ceiling as Klaus' lips come up right beside her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.

She should push him away. Side step him, shove him, take a step back... something. But instead, she stands there dumbly, frozen in anticipation for his next words.

"Fine."

Arabella does a double take as Klaus steps back, struggling to concede the amused grin that threatens to stretch across his lips.

"Fine?" She repeats, struggling to control her breathing. "That's it? Just like that?"

"I made you a promise, I tend to stick to my word," Klaus says, walking over to his bar tray and pouring a drink.

"No you don't," Arabella snorts in disbelief. Klaus shrugs with a small chuckle, turning his glass.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

"You are so dramatic," She huffs, face contorted in irritation. "Was the buildup really necessary?"

"No, but I do enjoy seeing you get flustered," He replies with ease, smirk only widening at the faint blush that spreads across her cheeks and nose. Due to a darker skin tone, Arabella (thankfully) can normally hide a blush with ease, but in this particular moment, it's quite evident he's caught her off guard.

"I-I don't get flustered," She defends, wanting to just about scream into a pillow for that stutter. Klaus's dimples press into his cheeks as he grins widely, opening his mouth to say more. "Shut up."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Marcel unconsciously taps his fingers against the metal banisters as he looks down at the courtyard below with a small frown. Klaus has control, and he has a plan. Is said plan going to work? Only time will tell. For now, though, he'll take a page out of his mentor's book and play loyal ally. At least until the time is right.

But, like all problems, there are blocks in the path. And one particular block seems to pop up everywhere and anywhere. Including here and now.

He distastefully looks to his side as Arabella walks down the hall, her own eyes narrowed at Marcel. Ever since Klaus took back the Quarter, the two of them have stayed out of each other's paths. Marcel is now Klaus' right hand (though not exactly by choice), and Arabella, apparently, is in control of the witch faction. Considering neither party gets along with the other, they've avoided each other.

Marcel expects that she'll continue avoiding him, and sighs heavily when she comes to a stop beside him instead.

"Try not to sound so disappointed," Arabella snorts, leaning her elbows on the banister and clasping her hands together. Marcel rolls his eyes.

"What do you want? Here to gloat?"

"I think Klaus has that part covered," She smirks bitterly.

"I bet this pisses you off, huh?" Marcel taunts with a small smile, turning towards her. "You probably wanted to kill me, and instead, I'm here, right by Klaus' side. Just like you."

Arabella shrugs, jaw clenching. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me a little," She turns towards him fully, leaning one hand on the banister. "But we have to face the facts: neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon. So we can either continue to be at each other's throats, or, we can agree to at least try to be civil. For New Orlean's sake," A hand extends towards him as well.

The older vampire stares down at her hand with a small frown, not too happy about the idea of making peace with Arabella. However, what choice does he have, really?

As soon as Marcel's hand clasps around Arabella's, however, she yanks him closer with a dark expression in her pale eyes, whispering, "But this doesn't mean I trust you. For all I know, you could be doing the same thing Klaus and I did-- playing loyal until you make a move," Her eyes begin to glow as she uses some magic to slowly increase a migraine in Marcel's head. He grunts slightly as her grip on his hand tightens as well. "So I'll play nice, for now. But the second I suspect any move of betrayal... well, let's just say I have a cozy little spot in The Garden with your name on it."

Arabella releases her magic fueled grip on Marcel, who quickly yanks his hand from her grasp and stumbles back. She offers up a mock sweet smile, brushing past him and continuing down the hall.

Arabella Salvatore is going to be a rather big block in his path, at this rate.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Apparently, when living under the same roof as three Original vampires, their vampire protégé and a pregnant werewolf, eating in peace is officially non-existent.

A proper, normal meal has become rare for Arabella, so she's shifted to mostly living off of blood, coffee, and alcohol. Separate, or together, whatever the situation calls for.

Currently, Arabella sucks through a blood bag, sitting in Klaus' study with a knee propped up as she studies some files from the mayor's office. Files concerning the peculiar nightlife here in New Orleans. After Marcel and Klaus had decided to stupidly kill the mayor, along with every other member that was in charge of the human faction (save for Father Kieren O'Connell), these files were free to grab, so she did. A little insight into just how much the humans here know could be insightful.

And they know a lot. A bit too much for comfort, in full honesty.

Her phone pings with a text, and she ignores it, continuing to drink her blood. But it pings again, and again, and again. Huffing, Arabella throws down her bag and snatches it, rolling her eyes at the sender.

Nikki: Come to the living room, we have a problem

Nikki: Arabella

Nikki: Answer your bloody phone

Nikki: ????

Ignoring his texts for the mere amusement of it, Arabella stands up, sliding the files into a folder and dumping them into a drawer, tossing the blood bag in the trash. She'll come back to them later.

Marcel, Klaus, and Elijah all gather around in the living room, each seeming an equal amount of stressed. Some put on a better show at hiding it then others, but it's rather clear this problem at hand isn't being taken lightly.

"Well isn't this awfully 'Super Secret Club-ish'," Arabella snorts, walking in and plopping down at the couch beside where Klaus stands.

"Our little weapon seems to be on the run," He cuts right to the chase, ignoring her comment.

"Who?"

"He's talking about Davina," Marcel explains, glaring at Klaus. "She ran away last night, and we can't find her. Poor kid is probably scared out of her damn mind..."

"Yes, I'm sure she's practically trembling in fear at this moment. Not like she isn't one of the most powerful witches in the Quarter, planning an attack on this family as we speak," Klaus sarcastically retorts with an eye roll. Arabella jumps up, glaring at him as well.

"How many times do I have to tell you? The witches are not some weapon you can wield to your advantage. That includes Davina," She snaps.

"Well, that's why you're here, love," Klaus holds a hand out. "Davina could very well be an enemy to this family, and we all know how I handle my enemies--"

Marcel and Elijah speak up at the same time.

"If you lay a hand on Davina, Klaus, I swear to God--"

"Niklaus, she is a child for heaven's sake--"

"You didn't let me finish," Klaus cuts them off, turning back to Arabella. "I told you that witch business is your territory, and Davina is a witch. So, Arabella, how do you suggest we handle this current predicament?"

All eyes turn to Arabella, which she is made very well aware of, and it just makes her all the more nervous. She can handle big decisions, but it seems everyone in this room has a different opinion. So, who is she to please?

Arabella quickly pushes the thought out of her head. Logic over feelings. She hasn't exactly put that to use lately, so it's time to reclaim her morals. What better time to do so then when looking for an overpowered, angsty teenage witch?

"Does she have any friends, or family she cares about? Preferably human?" Arabella turns to Marcel, who seems to just get angrier by this suggestion.

"You want to threaten her? How the hell is that supposed to help?"

"I want to lure her in," Arabella corrects with a hard set frown. She glances at the hybrid for a moment, cracking her knuckles anxiously with one hand. "Klaus is right, she has the capability to be dangerous, and a problem."

"Davina is not an enemy--"

"Maybe not yet," Arabella cuts him off. "We just need go get her here to reprimand her. No one will hurt Davina, okay?"

"You and I have very different definitions of reprimand, sweetheart," Klaus mutters under his breath.

"We have to proceed with caution. Davina is stronger than me, stronger than you, and probably stronger than you two as well," She explains, pointing at Marcel, then the two brothers. "She has all that magic from the Harvest Ritual, which never got completed. Not to mention, she's running on Ancestral Magic, and as someone who used to use that kind of magic, I can tell you with complete confidence that as long as the Ancestors are on your side, the tap is infinite. All that power is running through the veins of a scared and angry sixteen year old girl, so we need to find her before someone gets hurt."

She lets out a sharp exhale after that, standing back and waiting for someone to say something, The three men exchange glances amongst each other, before Klaus lays a hand on her shoulder and nods.

"Fine. I'll handle the hostage situation."

"Wait, what are you going to--" Arabella sighs heavily as Klaus speeds out of the room, without so much as an explanation offered. She turns back to Marcel and Elijah, who stare each other down. "Can you two stop giving each other the stink eye like you're five?"

"He started it," Marcel defends himself quickly, clearing his throat as he realizes how child-like that statement sounds. Elijah shrugs nonchalantly.

"I have no idea what you mean. This is simply my resting face."

With a small scoff, Arabella turns on her heels and leaves, grumbling under her breath, "Children. Literal children."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Author's Note:

Guess who's rewatching TVD for the first time? I started the show during Quarantine, finished all three trilogies in like two months, and then started writing The Sorceress. I've been bored so I'm rewatching it, and lemme tell you, I just about SCREAMED when I saw Elijah and Klaus. Like I knew it was coming and everything, but I still got so excited. I normally don't like rewatching shows unless it's a sitcom, but TVD is so fun to rewatch cause they're so many hidden clues that you only catch the second time around.

Anyways that was such a random thing to say but I felt like sharing. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to comment and vote<3

-Athena