Her Majesty // Mikaelson

19 Storm

A small wail of fear leaves my lips as I struggle to turn on the device, my slick fingers leaving streaks of blood across the screen. I furiously rub my hands on my coat, before turning on the phone again.

This time, it reads my fingers when I dial the number. I have to redial it three times, the muscles in my hands and arms tremoring so rigorously. Even my legs shook. I kick off my other wedge with a loud hiss, and it soars over the small buildings in the cemetery, carrying the dead of New Orleans.

How fitting that the witches died here. They'd return to their ancestors. The phone in my hand dials the number.

I successfully put it on speaker, and when someone answers my heart begins to pound. "Camille?"

"Who is this?" The therapist's voice comes over the speaker.

"I need you to get NiKlaus." I didn't even realize she had asked me a question until I told her what to do. "It's Merida." I amend quickly, then take a look around me, at the Carnage and the death. The red that covered the place. "I'm okay." My Scottish accent is quiet, and is drowned out by the insistent rain.

---

"At least New Orleans has no shortage of witches." Marcel comments. "I wouldn't have taken them all on yourself, though." I rolled my bright blue eyes hard, fixating them on the cocky Vampire Prince. His arrogant smirk slips from his face as I do.

"Instead of judging my methods, maybe you should be worried about who's next." I pause, batting my eyelashes fast and innocently. "I have a nasty temper of late." My words roll of my tongue like honey, and the corner of my mouth turns up into a dare.

"Can you two shut up?" Freya snaps, running her hands down the mark on my arm, returning to muttering something under her breath. She was checking for magic or something. I didn't know.

"Sure, if you want to tear my tongue from my head." I reply to her. Freya groans, looking at Niklaus who looked amused.

"Are you going to let them carry on? I can't concentrate." She complains.

"Well, if you weren't taking so long maybe they wouldn't be antagonizing each other." He replies, crossing his arms and smirking at his older sister. Freya sends him a glare.

"That's not helping." Elijah scolds the Hybrid.

"He's playing the cool dad, don't mind him." Hayley sneers.

"Great." Marcel palms his temple. "That makes me the middle child."

"Thank god." I chime in. "There has to be at least one badass older sister around here." There's a pause, and Freya looks up at me, as though feeling the insult coming. "And clearly you're not doing your job." The old witch before me slams her hand upwards, grabbing my neck. I only smile, seeing from my peripheral vision the rest of the bystanders flinch forward. Like they were just slapped across the face into attention. I put my hand on top hers, not even moving. "See those stars? All but one of them are witches. The other is my evil step mother, so please." I snap my teeth together. "Bite me."

Freya pulls her hand off me, walking away. "The Mark isn't Magic. At least none I know." She reports. "Whatever Merida's got up her sleeve, I can't take it off." She looks at me before opening her grimoire and flicking through the pages. I jump off the table.

"Well, unless you all like the smell of witch blood, I'll go clean up now." I announce, scanning the faces. "Actually, don't answer that, since you're all murderous psychopaths who probably bathe in witch blood." I strut off towards the stairs.

"You're one to talk, Merida." Marcel jokes.

"Right, because I executed witches in the street to make them fear me, and used a teenager to my advantage." I gesture to myself, stopping on the stairs. "This is recreational, that was demonic."