𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄, Stefan and Damon

Chapter 3

Whispers of footsteps stalked my path, but it was easy enough to evade the commonly used hallways. If these people were as stupid as my 'guard' than I could finish this soon. I needed to get back to my mates, who are likely breaking everything in their path. God, Nik as well. That is, if Caroline is in here. Or Laurel. Or Kol.

Gods help them all if they enraged my older brothers.

Finding my way into what I assumed was Marcel's office, I sat down on one of the many chairs, ready to bargain for my freedom. I scoffed at myself. Bargain? No, I'm busting my ass out of here. It's not like they know how to care for a pregnant Original Heretic. Hell, we don't even know how to care for a pregnant Original Heretic.

"What do you mean, she's-" I heard Marcel's voice hitch as he walked into his office. Turning to face me, he rolled his eyes. "Couldn't just stay with the guard, could you?"

"That would be too easy," I snarked, motioning for him to sit. "If you think that I'm staying here for much longer, you'd be wrong. Not only was it unsafe for you to hit me over the head, you put a guard outside my door. I don't trust any of your men, especially after that stunt you pulled. I'm pregnant, Marcellus. You could have hurt my children, your siblings."

Marcel stayed silent. I furrowed my eyebrows. "This isn't something small. You've ruled this city like a tyrant for too long. From what we've heard, you let your lackeys do all the dirty work. Not only is that cowardly, it's an embarrassment to all that we taught you. This has to end. You being my son doesn't change anything."

"I brought this place back from the brink of anarchy. When you left, there was nothing." Marcel's savior complex got old, fast. This city may not have been in physical anarchy, but it most certainly was in cultural distress. With the witches and the vampires fighting for dominance, nothing could get done. The humans weren't safe. The locals, maybe, but everyone else? No.

"Is this not anarchy?" I questioned, looking my son in the eye. He averted his gaze, not daring to meet my hazel eyes. "If you ever cared about me, about your father, you would know that we understand chaos. After 1000 years, we know it when we see it. The witches are being abused, emotionally manipulated for your own personal gains. I may not like them at all based on how they treat siphoners, but they don't deserve to have their magic snuffed out like candlelight."

Sighing, my son grabbed a bottle of bourbon from one of his drawers, pouring himself a glass. Before he could hand me something, I saw him look down at my belly and whisper himself a reminder of my pregnant state. Even as a vampire, I couldn't take those kinds of risks.

"I know you'll let me go. You have a good heart, Marcel. It would be a shame if you gave into grudges, into everything we told you was wrong in the world." He visibly shrunk back at my reprimands. Marcel knew my style of parenting, he'd grown up in my household. To think that he's already forgotten my personality is appalling. That should be ingrained by now. "You'd better be ready for a fight if you took Caroline and Laurel. I doubt Nik will be happy to find out his pregnant mate has been kidnapped by his son."

"Only precautionary-" I cut him off.

"Precautionary would be letting her leave. She's pregnant with another sibling of yours. You've got three on the way and over fifty angry vampires, hybrids, and heretics that would do anything to keep us safe. Mikaelsons stick together, so this deflection of yours will only work against you." A thought crossed my mind, making me suddenly stand up. Marcel gave me a confused look and I chuckled. "This isn't just about Nik, is it? Or me, or being a Mikaelson. You're hiding something from me."

"What makes you think that?" The hitch in his tone gave him away.

"How could you possibly track all of the witches? The only thing that can track magic is someone with magic, and as far as I'm concerned you don't have any of the elders on your side." Marcel's eyes darted to the door. "Oh, Marcel, you've always been so easy to figure out. Who are you keeping in a tower? They must be pretty powerful if they can track everyone. You're not one to keep multiple people, so who is the special one?"

"Davina is none of your-" A loud crash could be heard from upstairs. "Crap!"

"Is that her? Davina?" I had come here to get myself out, but unravelling the mystery of this witch girl was too good to pass up. Marcel wasn't a good liar, he couldn't be when living with vampires who specialized in trust issues and observation. Any small twitch set us off. Byproduct of Mikael's abuse, but it proved useful.

Marcel put down his drink and started rushing up a set of stairs. I followed, wanting to see this girl for myself. He didn't stop me, knowing I could knock him out while eight months pregnant.

Once he opened the creaky doors he was faced with a teenage girl. "Marcel I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make it explode. I just wanted to practice."

"So you're training her yourself?" I asked. "Because she needs to be trained by an actual witch, not someone who knows it in theory. She should be surrounded by magical energy at all times if she is to be used as a weapon. Come on, Marcel, I thought I taught you better. Has a century truly erased all my teachings?"

"Who is she?" The girl trembled slightly. I smirked, knowing she could sense the magic I had stored inside of me before my pregnancy. Tove and Tova tended to siphon off of me when they got bored of kicking my insides. Hectic children and they haven't been born yet. "Is she a witch?"

"I would rather not be associated with common witches," I deadpanned. They hadn't been kind to me, no reason to be kind to them. "Does she know about people like me?"

"Mom, please," Marcel groaned. "First you question my teachings and then you pester me with questions?"

"That's what happens when you kidnap your pregnant mother, your pregnant step-mom, and your aunt." Davina's face paled as I finally showed my face to her. She had gorgeous brown hair and crystal blue eyes. They reminded me of the ocean.

"Your mother?" Davina stumbled on her words. "Your mother was daggered by Klaus. You said that."

"People can take out daggers, child," I reminded her. "It's not like he staked me. My big brother would never stake me, or dagger me without my explicit permission. I've tried to explain that to Marcel, but he doesn't seem to listen to his dear mother anymore. Did he kidnap you as well?"

"He saved me," she beamed before looking behind her. "It's not on fire anymore. Good sign."

Burned feathers fell down on the desk. I could tell that parts of this room had been damaged by magic in the past. It was a bit obvious, seeing the patched up holes in the walls. Marcel shook his head at the mess the young girl had made. "I thought I said no fire?"

"It wasn't a fire spell," she insisted. "It just accidentally became one after I added camomile instead of lavender. I swear, I thought it was the same thing for one second. I promise I'll clean up."

I had to take a second to look at the girl with horror. She seemed so terrified of what would happen if Marcel was upset with her. I knew my son would never hit someone, but what kind of discipline did he use with Davina? Taking things away? She's already isolated from the rest of the world. Perhaps she was just a bit anxious, but her magic was fluctuating, just like when a witch gets upset or scared.

"Davina, how about you come over to meet Marcel's family for dinner? We'd be happy to have you over." Marcel groaned and Davina's frown turned into a grin. "Marcel, you've already screwed up. Taking me was a death sentence. Taking Caroline was a death sentence. Taking Laurel was a death sentence. This can be a peace offering. Who knows how long it'll be until Nik rips out your throat for putting a hand on his baby sister and his mate."

"Please?" Davina was clearly a teenager, begging for some time outside like she did. She even batted her eyelashes. It was sweet to see a young witch with innocence. Most of them had been corrupted by the acts of witchcraft. It was like that even when I ruled the French Quarter.

"No, no, no. This isn't-"

"Come, Davina, let's take everyone over now. It's what, noon? Should give you some time to meet everyone."