𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑿𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 - 𝘯𝘪𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘰𝘯

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ fᴏʀᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

➳

Rebekah and Marcel have returned to the French Quarter, they meet Thierry in one of the bars.

"Papa Tunde is dead. That leaves Sabine, Bastianna and Genevieve." Rebekah tells the vampire.

"We want to kill them all, and as soon as Davina rises, we take her with us." Marcel adds. Thierry listens on silently, pouring himself and Marcel a drink.

"Look. We have one shot at this, and I know our chances of success are sweet bugger all, but we've got to do it. So please, one stray dog to another, help us." Rebekah adds, looking at Thierry.

"Not many go up against those odds and live to tell the story. Have you?" Thierry hands Marcel the drink he's poured for him.

"I'm still standing here, aren't I? I've gone up against the worst of them all." Marcel says, his mind reminiscing on days gone by.

Jazz Club, New Orleans, 1919

Mikael is sat at the bar, alone, drinking when Marcel approaches. He orders himself a drink. "I'll take another." Marcel says to the bartender.

"You're a lucky man." Mikael comments, drawing Marcel's attention to him. "Men search the world over for a woman like her." Mikael nods in the direction of Rebekah.

"Well, she's taken, friend." Marcel replies bluntly.

"Oh, I can see that. It's just that she reminds me so much of my departed wife as a girl. See, I've been travelling for such a long time that it's a blessing to see a familiar soul so far from home." Mikael responds.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Here's to old faces in new places." Marcel lifts his drink along with Mikael, the two of them toasting together.

"I've been in New Orleans for a day, and I find it to be quite surprising. Had I known of its charm and fascinating denizens, I would have come ages ago. Don't suppose I have to thank you for extending this invitation." Mikael says, Marcel's eyes narrow at the words.

"Who are you?" He asks, a part of him already knowing the answer.

"Oh , you're a smart man. I think you know." Mikael reaches into his pocket, handing Marcel the newspaper article photo of Klaus that Genevieve had sent to him during her spell. "I'm an intelligent man myself." Mikael tells him, before beginning to compel Marcel. "So, have a seat." Marcel immediately sits down next to Mikael.

"Let me tell you what I learned about you this afternoon, Marcel Gerard. You chafe under the control of my son Niklaus and would do just about anything to get rid of him, even call the one man on this earth who hates him more than you do. But, I couldn't understand what you hoped to gain. Rule of this city? Well, as I said, New Orleans has its charms, but to call me, the one they call The Destroyer, the one who's burnt cities far more charming to the ground in pursuit of his children. But now I see. You did it for love, the love of my daughter." Mikael eyes Marcel, his voice sinister.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Marcel snaps, glaring at Mikael threateningly.

"Mmm, so I'm going to make you a promise. I won't hurt Rebekah. Truth be told, she was always my favourite. And this city, you can have it, but first, you must tell me where to find my son."

Present day

- The Bayou -

Celeste enters a wooden building, small in saturate. A women with blonde hair is waiting, arms folded. She eyes the witch with suspicion.