Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries/The Originals or any quotes used/borrowed.

Notes: If you're still reading, I think that's awesome! And thanks! I appreciate it and I hope you continue to enjoy and leave positive feedback.

everybody wants to rule the world

"Lately I been, I been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars
Yeah, we'll be counting stars."

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AUGUST – 2 MONTHS LATER

She stood in front of a body length mirror in her underthings, her long dark hair tickling her otherwise bare back. Her toes curled in the soft carpet of her bedroom and the humid New Orleans breeze made her closed curtains flutter from her open window. Stephanie twisted her body to the side and narrowed her eyes. She sucked in her stomach, and then pushed out; twisted to look at the other side more critically.

She tentatively put a hand to her naked, still flat midsection. There was no noticeable change there and she couldn't feel anything, but her bra was beginning to become tighter and slightly uncomfortable. Stephanie hadn't known much about pregnancy besides the basics when she had studied medicine in college – there had been no need and little interest. Now, she had the knowledge of several books, many internet websites, and a few doctoral opinions behind her. Still, no one could blame her for the confused and complex feelings she was having. She was pregnant.

Stephanie was pregnant. The circumstances were beyond strange and the timing was terrible, but she was going to be responsible for a life that wasn't a friend's or Damon's; it was going to be her child's.

A thought niggled at the back of her head, in the part of her heart that grieved. Jeremy Gilbert, her first love in such a long time was dead and not coming back, but still, her thoughts lingered . . . if they'd settled their differences and put aside their fears and concerns and the past and the witches had still performed the spell . . . could the baby insider of her have been his? There was still a small part of her that was in love with that sweet, sweet boy who loved to draw with charcoal and had made her laugh and cared about saving innocents as much as she did. The boy who stuck by her for so long until he just couldn't handle it any longer . . . was now dead. Killed by Silas, who had suspiciously looked just like Damon.

Stephanie's phone buzzed. She let it go to voicemail and then listened to the message left there.

"Hey Stephanie, it's Caroline . . . again. We all went on a short road trip, you know, getting it down before school in a few days. But we all missed you and Elena. Bonnie was weird, you know because of the Expression stuff. She acted like she was going through withdrawal the entire summer vacation. If Kol ever comes back to town, I think she'll try to blow him up, with or without powers. I'm sure Elena will be sad that she missed Graduation and everything when she returns to normal . . . There was an awkward cough. Then Caroline barreled on. Really, Steph, I don't understand why you didn't stay. We could have used your support during the whole thing with Bonnie and during the ceremony in May. If you would just pick up the phone a little more often and explain in a little detail . . .

A sigh. Are you going to come to Whitmore? I know you didn't apply but I'm sure you could compel some administrators or something. I hope you'll call me back – and sooner than last time btw. Bye, Steph.

Stephanie tossed her phone onto her bed and turned to ruffle through her things to look for something to wear. Caroline had left almost regular messages over the summer, starting the day of Graduation, explaining their "Bonnie situation" and how Kol had disappeared off the face of the earth, after. She felt guilty for not returning all – many – of Caroline's calls, but she had no idea how to explain the situation she'd found herself in without Caroline flying out to New Orleans. And New Orleans was not a safe place for any of Steph's friends to be. She refused to let them get in the middle of the mess brewing in the French Quarter; it was best of they went on to college like they planned, and for Damon to focus on getting Elena to turn her emotions back on.

If she could just keep them away, they'd be safe.

Stephanie pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, with her favorite green sweatshirt and boots. Then she left the confines of her bedroom. In the two months she'd spent in NOLA, it had been filled with the monotony of unpacking her clothes and personal items and helping fix the large mansion so that it was suitable for living. She'd done a lot of wandering, familiarizing herself with the French Quarter, and spending a bit of time watching Marcel and his men. Elijah and Klaus bickered twenty three hours of the day about New Orleans, the witches, whether or not to release Rebekah from her dagger, and more recently, about the baby and Stephanie's safety.

Steph was content to let them argue because it didn't matter to her what they decided; she was not going to be controlled and locked up for nine months. They just didn't realize that yet.

She jogged down the elaborate staircase that led from the second story to the parlor, but stopped dead – no pun intended – at the sight in front of her. "Klaus," Stephanie said slowly, "tell me this isn't what it looks like. Please."

"I would, but that would be lying and I don't really want to lie to you, love." Klaus shut the coffin's top and rolled the large mahogany resting box into the foyer. "All the best relationship counselors say that honesty is key you know."

"Did they say that before or after you ate them?" Stephanie asked. She flashed down to the base of the stairs and then stalked after Klaus as he flung open the front door to greet two very familiar vampires.

"Semantics," Klaus dismissed airily. He grinned at the men waiting for him. "Hello, boys, where's Marcel?"

Stephanie recognized one of them as Thierry and the other as Diego; both of them Marcel's close and trusted henchmen. "Klaus?" Her voice was tight with frustration. What the hell was going on?

"He's coming," Thierry said. His eyes lit up when they caught sight of the coffin and his fingers curled slightly in anticipation. "So Elijah's in here? You wouldn't mind if we . . . checked, right?"

"Unfortunately, I do have to agree with my boy here," Marcel's voice drawled as he strolled up to the house. A hearse was parked in the driveway, and Stephanie supposed there was some irony in a vampire driving a one. "I've just got to make sure you're being straight with me, man."

"Of course." Klaus nodded and waved his hands at Elijah's coffin.

"Would someone tell me what's going on here?" Stephanie asked stiffly. She put her hands onto her hips. "Now, preferably."

"I'm giving Elijah over to Marcel as a gesture of good faith," Klaus said simply, "so that he knows that we're partners." His blue eyes were sharp and intense as they stared into Stephanie's. "Don't worry, love. It'll all be worked out soon."

"You're crazy," Stephanie said flatly. "After everything Elijah has done for you?" Despite the fact that this was clearly just a technique to help get into Marcel's good graces quickly and painlessly, Steph was not a fan of this plan. Klaus gave her significant look. She glared. "Why now? We've been here for weeks."

"Well, I just want to make sure we're all on the straight and narrow here," Marcel's booming voice echoed as he stepped into view. He lifted open the lid of the coffin and whistled. "Grey is not your brother's color." Stephanie snuck a peak and had to agree; Elijah looked horrific and she winced in sympathy.

Klaus turned back to his friend and shrugged. "Can't say I've met a vampire that does, mate." Marcel chuckled and shut the lid firmly and with a sharp click. He twirled his fingers and immediately Thierry and Diego hefted Elijah up into their arms and carried him over to the hearse, where they stored his coffin in the back.

"Nice doing business with you, man!" Marcel crowed. "You want to go out? I've wanted to show you something."

"Sure. Stay in the house, love," Klaus said casually and he strolled off with Marcel. They hopped into the hearse and the car rumbled to life before taking off down the dusty driveway, sending gravel and dirt into the air.

"Like hell I will," Stephanie growled and stepped out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She stalked down the driveway angrily. Klaus was playing a game to keep up a façade for Marcel, but Stephanie wasn't feeling particularly cooperative that day. If Klaus thought that he could keep her there like a fifties housewife, he had another thing coming.

"Someone's a little testy," A familiar voice drawled behind her. "Apparently the honeymoon phase is over. Can't really blame you for being pissy with Klaus; he can get a little overprotective and domineering of the ones he wants to keep to himself. Trust me."

Stephanie sighed, but kept walking. "Kol."

The Original strolled over to her side and maintained pace with her as they walked with regular human speed out of the drive and toward town. "Stephanie."

"You do realize that your brother just shoved both Rebekah and Elijah into coffins within months of each other, right? If I were you, I might have second thoughts about coming to meet him," Stephanie said critically. She side eyed him. "On second thought . . ." Kol was a pain in the ass ninety percent of the time, meaning it wouldn't too much of a loss if he was daggered and out of everyone's hair.

He smirked. "Eh," Kol grunted. "He daggered Rebekah so she couldn't cause any trouble and to keep her from feeling the pain of losing someone, and he daggered Elijah so that Marcel couldn't manipulate Klaus through him. Me? Klaus won't waste the energy unless I start to bug the bloke too much." He winked. "Besides, I have a couple of new tricks now anyway." Kol wiggled his fingers and lightning bolts buzzed between them.

"Point," Stephanie admitted. She pressed her lips together and debated on whether or not to ask Kol the burning question that had plagued her for the week. "What's Marcel and Klaus' relationship?" She finally asked. "I know Klaus turned him, but there's something more to it than that. Anyone can see it."

Kol laughed. "Blood hell, I forgot there were people who don't know about their history." At Steph's impatient look, he continued. "Marcel's like a son to my brother, believe it or not." Stephanie searched his face; Kol seemed entirely truthful, so she nodded. "I wasn't there initially, but I've heard the story. They were burying one of the mayor's sons – he was Rebekah's lover, of course – and they saw the mayor's other kid whipping this wee little mite, Marcellus. He must have been twelve or thirteen. Klaus made mayor's kid stop when Marcel showed some backbone and then rescued the kid. He even named him, too, come to think of it. He took Marcel in and raised him like he was his son because I guess he saw himself in him." Kol rolled his eyes.

"Because of Mikael's abuse," Stephanie supplied slowly.

Kol looked surprised but then shook his head. "Of course he told you. But yes, essentially."

"Then the witches' plan isn't going to work," Stephanie said almost to herself. Her hand hovered over her lower abdomen. The baby. Would they terminate the baby when they learned of Marcel and Klaus' relationship? Kol caught the motion and the soft spoken words.

But he was mainly focused the on the witches part and he perked up. "What witches?"

"The witches of the French Quarter are looking to overthrow Marcel," Stephanie explained. "They went to a lot of trouble to get us here so that Klaus would do it for them. Although, apparently it was for nothing. But why would Klaus give him Elijah then?"

Kol hummed in thought. "Marcel never was a big fan of Elijah's, or so Rebekah told me. But I think it's more likely my brother has something up his sleeve that he's keeping to himself. Do you happen to know where Rebekah's body is?"

"I have no idea," Stephanie said honestly and narrowed her eyes in thought.

Kol only hummed again. "I'll see you later, Miss Stephanie. I have havoc to wreak." He disappeared as they reached the French Quarter, as if he'd never been there to begin with. Stephanie sighed.

Then her phone rang again – Damon, this time. "Hello?"

"How's New Orleans?" He drawled.

"Same as it always is," Stephanie said as she began walking again. "Busy and full of conniving people."

"Of course it is." He sounded distracted.

"How's Elena doing?" Stephanie lowered her voice. "Has she turned it back on yet?"

"Nope," Damon said grimly. "But I have a few more ideas that I'll try."

"It's been a long summer," Stephanie said quietly. "Do you think she'll be able to go to Whitmore when it starts? Caroline asked." She was in the Quarter now, in the thick of the hustle and bustle, making it a little more difficult to talk and listen. She put a finger to her left ear to block out the excess noise.

"She wants to," Damon said, surprising Steph. "Even if it's only to sample some of the people there in the process, it's something. I'm thinking that after New York, it'll be a good idea to bring her home so she can see some familiar faces. Maybe being in the area will help her want to remember."

"Or maybe it'll remind her of Jeremy and make to draw back even further," Stephanie pointed out.

"Sh, you're harshing my juju," Damon admonished. "Besides, she'd be at Whitmore with Blondie and Judgy; no Jeremy related things there to freak her out. Plus, you have to come back eventually, right? So she'll have that whole network of support thing you talk about."

Stephanie quieted at the mention of returning to Virginia. She didn't know how she was supposed to go back, let alone even explain her situation. She wasn't even able to physically leave New Orleans because of damn Sophie Devereux.

When she didn't reply, Damon asked, "Stephanie . . . what's going on that you're not telling me about?"

"Nothing," Stephanie said unconvincingly. "Really."

"Stephanie. You've been gone as long as Elena and I have."

"Nothing for you to worry about," Steph pushed. "You need to focus on Elena. I can handle things here."

"That doesn't sound good, Steph." His voice suddenly took on a teasing tone, "Tell me what trouble you've gotten into now and I won't be mad later."

She decided to tell him part of the truth. "The reason I'm in New Orleans is that I'm here to help Klaus with something. It's not a big deal, so don't worry."

"Steph-"

"Oh, would you look at the time? Bye, Damon." Stephanie hung up and turned her phone off before slipping it back into her purse. She looked up and found herself at the restaurant – bar that Sophie worked at. She slipped inside and sat on a barstool, waiting patiently for the bartender to notice her.

"Hi," The woman greeted her moments later. She was blonde and personable, with an easy smile and knowledgeable eyes. "What can I get you?"

"Coke," Stephanie said forlornly, already missing the taste of alcohol. The woman, whose nametag read Camille, gave her a smile and disappeared behind the soda fountain machine. Stephanie tapped her fingers on the bar and turned to look at its other patrons. It was just her luck that that was the bar that Marcel had taken Klaus; they were seated at a small table by the window overlooking the sidewalk. Steph rolled her and turned back around in time for Camille to return with her drink. "Thanks." She gave bartender the required payment and began to sip her coke.

"Something the matter?" Camille asked. Her large eyes looked down at the vampire, concerned. Stephanie shrugged. Camille leaned forward almost conspiratorially. "I'm a psychologist too, if it helps; or studying to be one, anyway." Steph gave her a wry glance, to which the other women just shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, I know; a bartender who's a therapist. It's probably one of the worst clichés."

Stephanie smiled. "Well, I have this sort-of boyfriend who I've known for a long time and we recently kind of got back together. Only now he's in some trouble and I've got to help him out, but things just got really complicated . . ."

"Mommy issues?" Camille suggested.

"Daddy issues," Steph corrected and waved a hand, "but that's not the problem here. More like there are people conspiring against him?" She pursed her lips.

Camille furrowed her brows. "You know, a man came in here a while ago and said that his brother thought people were conspiring against him . . ."

"Tall, dark and wearing a suit?" Steph tilted her head.

"How'd you know?" But Camille's face said everything.

"He's my kind-of boyfriend's older brother," Stephanie sighed and drank some more soda. "He . . . left for a while."

"Hm. Didn't seem the type to run," Camille mused and Stephanie grimaced.

"It wasn't voluntary," Stephanie said darkly and stirred the ice in her coke with her straw. "And his other brother just came into town too. Younger, this time."

"Does he also have a hero complex too?"

Stephanie made an unimpressed face and shook her head. "He's a dick."

Camille laughed before looking at the clock. "Well, I'm clocking out. It was nice meeting you . . ."

"Stephanie."

"Stephanie." Camille smiled and untied her apron. "I'm Cami." She stooped down and grabbed a bag and a handful of books. Across the room, Marcel and Klaus rose as one, making Steph still in her barstool. As Cami prepared to leave, Marcel and Klaus intercepted her. Stephanie moved to the human's side to provide a little protection.

"Hello, love," Klaus said and smiled at Camille. The bartender tilted her head. "What's that you're studying?" He pointed at the books she was holding.

"Klaus . . ." Stephanie warned. Her fingers twitched.

"Abnormal psychology," Camille answered warily.

"Well, why don't you diagnose my friend over here . . . he's been kind of depressed, see." Klaus tugged Camille over to Marcel, where the other vampire stood at the bar. "He's been thinking a lot about this girl. He tells me she's a queen, fit for a king. I think he should cut his losses and move on. What's your professional opinion?"

Camille gave them both unimpressed looks, but Stephanie saw the moment when she decided to humor them. "I think he should try to be nice. And polite. And maybe the opportunity will present itself one day."

Marcel nearly jumped off the bar in his enthusiasm. "How about tonight? I'll meet you right here, 9 o'clock."

"I'll take it under consideration," Camille allowed and Stephanie grinned. "Goodbye, Stephanie. Maybe I'll see you later, and good luck with your problem." She gave Klaus a significant look and disappeared out the glass door.

"A little harsh," Marcel said with a smile as he watched her leave.

"Or maybe you've just lost your touch," Klaus teased lightly and Marcel mock glared. Then the vampire turned to Steph and gave her an assessing look.

Finally, he said, "Well, she doesn't look pregnant, but there's this peculiar smell in the air that's just a little too sweet . . ." Marcel trailed off.

"Really?" Stephanie looked at Klaus.

"I had to tell him," Klaus excused, eyes wide. "He's my partner. We share things."

"Well maybe he'll let you share the bed tonight because you won't be with me," Stephanie said lightly. Marcel cackled. Stephanie turned away and strode to the door, hoping to maybe catch up with Camille. She paused and called back, "Oh, and by the way, Klaus. Kol's here for a visit; thought you might want to know."

She followed Cami down the street, pausing only when she got a text from Klaus. I HAVE A PLAN. COMPEL CAMILLE TO GIVE MARCEL A CHANCE. I'LL EXPLAIN LATER, PROMISE.

WHY? She demanded.

BECAUSE THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG, SO I NEED A COUPLE OF SPIES ON MARCEL.

I'M STILL PISSED AT YOU.

I HAVE TO GET MARCEL'S TRUST. THAT'S ALL. PLEASE.

Stephanie shoved her phone into her pocket furiously, but called out to Cami. "Hey, Camille! Wait up!" She was going to regret this. "Want to get lunch?"

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Kol wandered. He hadn't been in New Orleans for a while, the last time being when his family had been run out shortly after the bar fight he'd gotten into with Damon Salvatore. It had changed, and quite a bit at that. The werewolves seemed to completely gone and the witches were scattered and beneath Marcel's thumb. The vampires seemed to all work for the 'king.'

Well, the ones that hadn't got in his way still worked for their king. The ones that had were now ash and dust in the wind.

Kol wanted to find Elijah and release him from his prison for a few answers that he knew Klaus would be cagey about, like why the hell they were in New Orleans anyway and what was going on with the witches. Also, little as Kol wanted to admit it, Elijah was a useful for planning things out and was a good balance for both Kol and Klaus' impulsivity and as Klaus had called it at the beginning of the summer, Kol's special brand of psychosis. Later, when he had freed Elijah, Kol would worry about Rebekah, because things just weren't nearly as fun without her there to irritate.

He'd had some fun during the summer, trying to get Bonnie Bennett out of his head and he reluctantly admitted his heart. Unfortunately, Kol had discovered that was easier said than done, so he'd made the trip to New Orleans at last to find out what Klaus wanted. His curiosity had been killing him.

Kol searched by scent for his daggered siblings, but it appeared that they had just disappeared off the face of the earth, which suggested magical interference and therefore, a challenge. And if there was one thing that Kol liked, it was a challenge. He went back to the Mikaelson property that Klaus and Stephanie were staying at and found some of Elijah's things to help him scry for his brother.

Then he had to go into town and purchase a new crystal. Scrying was a bit like using a locator spell, but the latter needed blood to track someone, live blood. Which the vampire family decidedly did not have. So scrying it was. The magic shops mostly looked like fakes, but Kol found a few distinguishing characteristics after wandering for a bit that would help him differentiate between what was real and what was just selling little baubles for the tourists. Eventually, he found one.

"Hello, there. I seem to be in need of a crystal. Have any of those in here?" Kol called as he stepped inside. A young witch stood behind the counter. She looked up with large, expression eyes.

"Sure," She chirped. "We have a few. Are you getting something for your girlfriend back home?"

"I'm actually going to be using it scry for my lost brother," Kol explained. He smirked. "So, about the crystal?"

The girl blinked and then beamed. "You're a witch? Like, a real one? You're obviously not one of the French Quarter ones . . . sorry, rude. I'm Katie!"

"Nice to meet you. Crystal, please?" He did not want to get into it with another small town witch. The thought of Bonnie and Expression still made him cringe.

Katie's smile wavered only a little. "Definitely, sorry. Hold on one second." She held up one finger and then disappeared into a back room. Kol browsed the front of the magic shop a bit, curiously sticking his nose into shelves and books. He'd missed magic. And there sure as hell hadn't been things like this when he could actually connect to it before, so he was going to take advantage.

"Here we go!" Katie returned. She handed him the small crystal that was already intricately tied to thin, but hardy rope. Perfect for swinging over a map of NOLA. She gave him the price, which he paid easily. "Thanks for visiting! I hope you return with your future magic needs."

Kol had to smile at her naivety, but said nothing more to the young witch as he left the store. He made the trip back to the Mikaelson mansion and quickly ransacked the house, looking for a map of the French Quarter.

Then he set to work.

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"You take me to the nicest places," Klaus said dryly. He followed Marcel down the ramp of the parking garage despite his disinclinations and was surprised to find a large van and a couple of Marcel's men waiting beside it.

"How was the catch?" Marcel called. When they got closer, Thierry and Diego opened the bag of the van to reveal two young people sitting up, terrified, in black body bags.

"Not very good." Thierry leaned against the van's open door. "They're not much."

"Well, they'll have to do, considering I just lost six nightwalkers." Marcel's eyes slid to Klaus. The hybrid shrugged.

"I admit that it was probably Kol, considering what Stephanie told me this morning." Klaus said. "But since I haven't seen my only little brother, I'll have to wait to reprimand his actions." Diego growled under his breath, but Klaus only shot him a conceited smirk.

"Well, I hope I don't need to remind you that you're a guest here, buddy, and that I don't have time for Mikaelson family drama. Keep your brother on a leash."

"You'd have more luck draining the Mississippi with a straw," Klaus said darkly. He then stood back, intrigued, as Diego opened the van's back door to reveal two young people, a girl and a boy. Marcel began to spin a rose colored spiel about vampire life and the French Quarter.

"What do you think, buddy?" Marcel put a hand to Klaus' shoulder and pulled him in closer. "Cute girl or dorky, gay best friend?"

"I say you do dealer's choice," Klaus suggested lightly. Marcel beamed and clapped him on the back. He rushed forward and pulled out a pretty gold coin and showed it to the two transitioning vampires.

"This this coin? I'm going to drop it in about three seconds. Whoever picks it up lives forever, and the other . . . well, dies, but for good this time. So, who'll it be?" Marcel flipped the coin and it fell to the floor of the van. The blonde girl and her olive toned friend looked at each other with wide, scared eyes, before the girl dove toward the coin just a split second later.

"Damn!" Marcel laughed. "Damn."

"How could you?" The teenage boy demanded of the blonde. He looked at her with wide, betrayed eyes.

She only curled her lip in contempt. "Get over it, Josh. It's not like I had a choice – you would have done the same thing!"

Josh's mouth opened to argue, but Marcel flashed into the back of the vehicle before he got the chance. His strong arms darted out and snapped the pretty little blonde's neck and she fell backwards onto the carpet. He zipped her up.

"Let her die in cold storage," Marcel told Thierry and Diego sharply. Then he turned to Josh, but Klaus saw the look his protégée shot him beforehand. "I've got a thing about people who betray their friends. Come on, let's go for a ride." Thierry and Diego stepped forward and lugged the full body bag out of the car and over their shoulders, while Marcel pushed Josh farther into the van before shutting the door.

"I'm driving," Marcel said to Klaus with a smile. "But you can have shotgun."

"How kind of you," Klaus said dryly. He slipped into the passenger side and let Marcel drive them out of the parking garage and up into the daylight once more. Outside, the streets were streaming with people and drum lines, a constant river of partying. He wondered if Stephanie was out and about with them – she was probably still pissed, Klaus knew, but it was all a part of the game. If Steph had to stay in New Orleans because of some spell, it would be best that Marcel didn't grasp the depth of Klaus' feelings for her. Or else she would become one of the witches' pawns, but one of Marcel's, as well. Klaus just had to explain that.

There was also the problem of Kol. If he was killing random night walkers, he didn't care about Marcel's rule, but that really actually endeared him a little more to Klaus. Maybe he could get him to remove the spell on Stephanie, and then she could escape if she had to and wouldn't be part of the witches' big game of chess . . . Klaus would take care of Marcel either way, but he preferred it if his Ripper didn't get hurt. Or the baby.

Marcel parked a few feet away from the entrance of the parking garage and stepped away to make a phone call. Klaus brought Josh from the van to a big black Jeep Grand Cherokee and shoved him inside before the mite got the chance to burn in the sunlight. A sudden thought struck him. He sat in the back seat with the vampire in transition and turned to face him.

The kid, Josh, looked at him with inquisitive eyes. "Um, hey?"

Klaus had to compel him before Marcel got the brat onto vervain. "Listen, kid. I have something I need you to do for me."

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"A church? Really?" Kol furrowed his brows as he stared up at the building he'd marked down on his map. "Really?"

He stepped through the overarching doorway and slowly made his way down the middle aisle between the pews. It was an older church and its architecture was something that Klaus would appreciate, Kol noticed. He began to search the entire building, top to bottom to find his big brother.

When he was about to blow something up in frustration in one of the linen closets, he heard a creak above him. Kol's head shot upwards. Stairs. He flashed out of the small storage space and located some old, creaky wooden steps and practically flew up them. At the top was a door with light peeking between the cracks.

Kol pushed it open.

Inside revealed a room decorated almost exactly how Kol would imagine a teenage girl's to be, and there was art and sketches littered throughout and strung up on the walls and the ceiling. To his left and at the end of the room was a dark headed girl facing her mirror. To his right was Elijah's coffin.

The girl stood up slowly and turned around. Kol thought she couldn't be older than seventeen, at the most. "Who are you?" Her voice was level and unafraid. Curious. He tried to step over the threshold, but there was an invisible force holding him back.

"Kol Mikaelson." He gave her a bright smile. "And I'd like to come in."

"We all want things," The girl said. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for that, actually." Kol pointed at Elijah's coffin. "So, if you don't mind, I'll take him and be on my merry way . . ."

"No," The girl snapped and the room shook. Kol's brows surged upwards.

"You're a witch?" He was delighted.

The girl folded her arms. "My name is Davina. And yes, I'm a witch and you're an Old One."

"But I am handsome." Kol smirked and leaned on the door hinge. His spiky hair flattened a little when he rested his head on the wood paneling.

Davina sniffed. "Hm. If you're an Old One, that means you're related to him." She jerked her head toward Elijah.

Kol hummed. "That's right, darling. So tell me, what's with the witches in the French Quarter? How does Marcel control them? Does he know about you?" He could feel the magic humming through her veins, buzzing just beneath the surface of her skin and it made Kol's dead heart beat a little faster to feel all that power.

Davina smiled. "Maybe. Does he know about you?"

Kol shrugged. "Probably. I did kill some of his nightwalkers. Pesky fellows, those vampires were." Davina frowned at him.

"You shouldn't upset Marcel," She scolded.

"Why not?" Kol scoffed. "He can't hurt me, darling. You said it yourself, I'm an Old One. I can't be killed."

"But I can. Hurt you, that is." Davina raised her hand and Kol felt an invisible pressure tighten around his throat and lift him up off of his feet. He licked his lips and tried to think of some kind of counter spell, but she hadn't spoken aloud. He didn't know what kind of enchantment she was using.

She uncurled her fingers and he dropped to the floor. Her gaze lifted to some point above his head. "There you are," Davina greeted. "We have a visitor."

"I can see that," Marcel's voice came from behind him. "What's he doing here?"

"He wants Elijah."

"Well, that's a problem, isn't it?" Marcel stepped to the left. "Could you make him a little compliant for me? I need to get him out of here."

"Of course." Davina raised her hand again and then everything went dark.

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.

.

"I'd like to know why you just had me compel Cami to spy on Marcel."

"Because it's part of my diabolical plan."

"Now you sound like Damon."

"Can't have that, now can we, love?" Stephanie and Klaus' bickering petered off when they found Kol lounging in the living with a bottle of Jack in hand. His dark eyes lit up when they caught sight of the couple, and he grinned.

"Hello there, darlings. Guess where I've been?"

"Where?" Stephanie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I've no clue," Kol said cheerfully and topped off the glass tumbler on the coffee table. Klaus and Stephanie exchanged intrigued glances with each other before coming farther into the room and settling on the couch across from Kol. "But I can get back there."

"What happened, then?" Klaus asked, long suffering.

"I found Elijah; he's being guarded by a very pretty witch." Kol sipped his drink before meeting Klaus' surprised eyes. "She's extremely powerful."

"Marcel has a witch that doesn't want to kill him?" Stephanie asked, intrigued.

Kol hummed. "She's young – a teenager, but so, so powerful."

"As you've said." Klaus narrowed his eyes. "Why were you hunting down Elijah?"

"Because we need the bloody wanker," Kol said dryly. "I don't know what you're up to, but if you hadn't noticed, neither of our," he gestured between him and his older brother, "plans ever work, loathe am I to admit it. The girl, Davina, wiped the place of where she and Elijah were of my memory but I can find her again by doing what I did the first time: scry for Elijah. Now, Marcel told me that everything in this place is his, including Elijah, until he feels like giving it back. Which, might I add, he didn't sound particularly inclined to do. So I wouldn't suggest giving up Rebekah, or else we'll never get any of it back, brother."

"Bloody hell," Klaus snapped and glowered at floor. "A witch?"

"Not just any witch, Niklaus. She's something I've never seen before. Her power? It rivals the black Expression that diluted Bonnie Bennett's veins for weeks. Who knows what she can do to Elijah?"

"So, in other words, Klaus screwed up," Stephanie deadpanned. She side-eyed Klaus, who cursed.

"You gave our brother to the most powerful being in New Orleans. Good going." Kol took another drink.

"She must be Marcel's secret weapon," Klaus muttered. He stood abruptly and punched the wall, breaking a fist sized hole into it. "Damn it!" He roared. "How could I have been so stupid?!" He'd been trying to gain Marcel's trust quickly since he was getting impatient, but had inadvertently put his brother into very, very dangerous hands in the process. Damn it.

"Klaus," Stephanie interrupted suddenly, drawing the attention of the two Originals. "What do you have against Marcel anyway? Kol said you were like family. What happened?"

Klaus pressed his lips together in a fine line. He rubbed his fist as he turned away from the hole he'd made. "I gave him everything, and when Mikael chased me and my family out of New Orleans a hundred years ago, we'd thought he'd died. So we mourned him. But when I returned with you, I learned that he'd stayed and not only survived, he'd thrived. Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice to take everything my family had built and made it his. Now, he's living in our home, he's sleeping in our beds . . . that 'M' he stamps everywhere in town, it's not for Marcel, it's for Mikaelson. I want it all back and if I have to push him out to get it, that's exactly what I'll do."

Stephanie sat back on the couch and waited for Klaus to cool off, while Kol folded his legs together.

"So, what's the plan?"

Klaus pointed down at Kol. "We track down Elijah again and wake him up. Then we hurry the witches along. Cami and Josh hopefully prove to be useful spies. Then, we wait."

Well, Stephanie mused tiredly, her life was never boring anymore.

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Davina heard the telltale creak of heavy booted feet on the wood floor of her loft and instinctively knew it was Marcel coming to call. She didn't lose her focus though, and her hand continued its rapid movements across the easel with a stick of charcoal held loosely in her fingers. Davina had to get the pictures in her head onto paper before she lost it. She didn't stop until Marcel laid a hand lightly across her shoulder.

She turned.

"Sorry about that unpleasantness with Kol." Marcel looked at her big, regret filled eyes.

"He doesn't scare me," Davina told him flatly. "None of them do."

"I didn't think they would, honey. But it looks like they're here to stay." Marcel's lips turned down into an upset frown and he rubbed her shoulders.

Davina's nostrils flared. "They don't belong here!"

"It might be kind of tough to convince them that, which is why I need to ask you a favor." Marcel's intent gaze slid over to the Old One's coffin and then back to her. "I'm gonna need you to figure out how to kill an Original."

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Tbc.