Resurrection

Trouble of the World

The thought that Mama T has made a fool of him crosses his mind, and his hands twitch; they want to shoot out and snap her slight, mole covered neck, but he reminds himself that Mama T is the child of a human who had been kind to him, one of the very few beings to ever be so over the millennia of his existence, and more importantly, she is the only witch who will perform magic within a 100 mile radius of New Orleans.

Marcel Gerard, Klaus's former protégé and current King of New Orleans, had banned it in the Quarter and its surrounding parishes for the last fifty years and has executed any witch practicing.

Of course this law did not apply to Marcel's witch.

Klaus stands abruptly, his eyes flashing from blue to yellow, "What games are you playing old woman?" He asks, allowing Mama T to explain herself, a grace he has rarely allowed a human, especially one who he presently believes has just sold him a pipe dream.

Unafraid, Mama T angles her head up at the angry hybrid and purses her lips together like she is sizing him up, "I tell you no lies, Niklaus; she's your witch, and she is dead. This is the truth," She stresses, and then points a bony, crooked finger at him, "But, Mama T is gon' fix that."

Klaus grimaces down at Mama T, "And why would you be so generous in helping me to obtain the witch?" He asks, expecting her to specify what part of the spoils she wants after he takes New Orleans back from Marcel.

She gently pushes her feet on the rickety wooden floors and begins to slowly rock, "Like I see you in yo' future, I see in mine. I'm 'posed to bring that baby back."

Glancing around the shabby living room, he sees the broken TV sitting on the threadbare rug, the small holes and wide cracks in the hardwood letting cool air out in the summer, and cold wind in in the winter, and the thin walls stained brown from water damage. Klaus runs his hands through his hair, "Name a price and I will pay it," He orders, because he is uncomfortable. He doesn't want to owe anyone, even if they think it's a part of their destiny.

She tells him to save his pennies; she doesn't need them.

But when he growls about how he does not entertain negotiating after a deal is made, she shuts her eyelids close, and in a low whisper, she tells him when she dies, she wants him to foot the bill.

Smirking, he bows and picks up her hand and kisses it, "You will have a funeral fit for a queen," He says, satisfied with the arrangement.

BKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBK

On a private plane to an isolated airspace in Virginia; Klaus is accompanied by his plans as he is the lone passenger besides the compelled pilot.

Klaus circles a finger around the rim of the gin filled glass in his hand, deep in thought, envisioning his coup, explicitly, the pleasure he will have in seeing Marcel -the boy he made into a man- crumble and having him speak and behave as if he is on his knees while in his presence.

Then there would be no more confusion on who is and always has been King.

The pilot's voice comes on over the intercom, cheery, informing Klaus that the time is 8:30 PM and the weather is 75 degrees, slightly cloudy and they will be descending in the next fifteen minutes.

He does not have much time in Virginia; he has to return to New Orleans for tomorrow's nightfall so Mama T can carry out the rites of resurrection.

Before departing from Mama T's home, he had been very displeased that she would not reanimate the Bennett Witch then and there, but she told him she had everything a witch needed to welcome a soul back to this world, but there was one object required for her invocation to succeed.