Camille gif on side/top.
When we get home from the dinner only Penelope was there. I make a display of looking around. "Where's Francis?" I ask her.
"Maybe you shouldn't know. After all it was you that made him follow me." She pauses, drinking whatever it was that was in her cup. It looked like wine but I knew it was probably blood. "Was it not?"
"I wanted to make sure you got home safely." I explain, shrugging and heading down the hallway. Penelope holds my gaze until I turn the corner, and knock softly on Francis's door. He opens it. Only in shorts. "Would you at least make an effort to put on a shirt?" I scoff.
He smirks, crossing his arms and leaning across the doorframe. "Can I help you?" He asks, his voice filled with mocking and amusement.
"No. I wanted to make sure you were left unscathed by the Queen Bee." I tell him, then push him inside his room and shut his door, rolling my ice blue eyes at my little brother I had just trapped in his own room.
My feet carry me to my own room, noticing Bastian must've had compelled some poor lad to move in New furniture. Cherry Oak bed boards and dresser with a dress and a long mirror had been set up. The sheets and drapes on my window matching red and gold design.
It was a warm, inviting room with hard wood floors and light painted walls that was tan-yellow. He knew I liked the warm rich colors and beauty so I gratefully unpacked my clothes and boxes. Hanging them up and setting up the few things I held dear to me around the room, and twist the gold ring on my finger, observing it when it was done.
I snap out of my trance, knowing full well that I could be moving tomorrow if something happened. If I wanted to stay here for any long amount of time I needed friends in high places. I take a deep breath, then leave my room and join Bastian in the main room, and he hands me a glass of whiskey as I draw closer. I take it from him, smiling slightly.
"Where are you going exactly?" He asks me, his own accent flipping in his words like fish in water.
"Beginning my usual routine." I straighten up, taking a sip of the strong drink. "This city is touristy. And unlike Tokyo there aren't just vampires here. There's a large field of supernatural traditions and culture." I pour myself some wine once I finish the whiskey, smelling the wine and slightly smiling. Someone must've tapped it with blood because it certainly smelled more iron containing than wine.
"Yes. Which means there's probably already a system of vampires and humans working together here. I'm sure there's peace here, and no need for your interference." He replies judgementally.
"I don't live in a city without controlling it, Bash." I finish the blood wine, my eyes darkening at the lingering blood on my lips. Then they return to normal. "From what I understand Marcel controls the vampires and the regent of the witches is some lad who called himself Vincent Griffith. The wolves live in the bayou but they don't have a set pack anymore. However, they do respect Hayley Marshall Kenner. Who is..." I trail off. Bastian rubs his forehead.
"The mother of NiKlaus's child " He finishes. "Learn that in the last three days?"
"No. I knew that several years ago." I tell him with a smirk. "I don't need to control the lot of them. I only need loyalty." My hands smooth down my dress, and I fluff out my red curls and untwist the necklace with a small metal pendant on it, laying it out flat. "Starting with the humans. Then the witches. Their soul purpose is to uphold the balance of nature." I fold my fingers together behind my back, laying on the waist of my dress.
"How exactly do you plan on making an alliance with the witches who are already allied with Marcel?" Bash asks me, narrowing his eyes as though trying to get inside and read my mind. Know my methods and my steps.
"Simple." I reply. "Marcellus is not my enemy. Vincent may be a witch, but he's also a man." I smile slightly at his calculating expression. "If my normal charms do not appeal to his attractions, than logic will."
"How would it be logical for him to side with you? You don't know the city like Marcel." Sebastian retorts, and I resisted the urge to call my older brother a sole idiot. He must be thick to not see my method but I guess he wasn't raised by a vampire who had killed his own mother. He was raised by a king who doted on his older sister. The future Queen and all.
"I'm touched that you doubt me, brother. Excuse me. I have a date with a blonde bartender." I kiss his cheek and head off towards the door.
"At this hour?" He asks me.
"I very much prefer to conduct business in the dark, dear brother." I answer over my shoulder, pulling the door shut behind me.
The New Orleans streets had quieted at this late hour but a few people meandered here and there along the side walks. I walk up to Rousseau's, peering in at the Blonde who sat at the bar alone. I go to open the door, realizing it must be stuck on something, so I force it open, and walk in.
"We're closed." Camille says, looking over at me and then sighing as though I was a complete inconvenience to her late night.
"Then maybe you should've locked the door." I reply, sassiness strong in my voice.
"It was locked." She turns her surprisingly fierce gaze on me. I turn around and look at the door, realizing I must've busted the lock. It wasn't caught on something, rather it had been closed for Good.
"I'll get someone to repair it." I dismiss the broken door and sit beside her, grabbing a glass for myself and setting it down. Cami gives me a wary look but fills it up with the bottle sitting in a near proximity to her.
"You mean you'll compel someone to repair it?" She asks, but it was more of a fact than a question. As though she was correcting me. Not asking for clarification. At this I smile, holding the glass up for a sip.
"The human psychologist bartender knows about the supernatural running rampant in this city, imagine the irony." I can't help but smirk at that. Camille looks down at her glass, as though secretly wishing me away. "I figured you were in the loop with Marcellus." I go on, about to say more when suddenly she looks at me, piercing me with her eyes once more.
"Why do you call him that? Marcellus?" She asks. Although her voice was unwelcome her curiosity was clear. If she was to be in my company she planned to make good use of it. All was good with that. If a pretty girl such as herself wanted to know there wasn't harm in telling her. I could end her life whenever I please, so it's not like there was any risk in telling her anything.
"Because that's his name." My eyes harden slightly. "A name which means little warrior. Calling him Marcel not only defeats the purpose of the name in the first place but desensitizes the very person who gave it to him." I answer, setting the glass on the bar and folding my fingers together on the countertop. Camille suddenly loses hostility in her eyes and demeanor, seeming now intrigued with me.
"You mean Klaus?" She asks, but it was clear she already knew. I smile slightly to answer her question. "It seems very interesting to me that last night you had given me a hundred dollar bill when the first night I met Klaus he did the same thing." I rose an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. "You mentioned you had been raised by them when you spoke to Marcel."
"In a way I was. I first met the family when I was very young. It was 12th century Scotland." I explain lightly, not delving deeper. I finish my drink. Cami widened her eyes, clearly not realizing how old I was. However she did piece together my Scottish accent immediately as she never mentioned that to clarify in her next words.
"Why exactly did you come in here?" She seemed again on guard as though she had reminded herself what and who I was.
"Why did you pour me a drink?" I reply in turn.
"When the second most ruthless family of vampires in the world walk into your city you welcome them with a smile and tequila." Cami smiles a bit. Immediately I recognized those ancient words, and crack a little laugh. They didn't come from Cami.
"Ah so someone in the Mikaelson family wanted to give you a heads up." I grab the bottle from her and pour myself another glass, my ice eyes flicker up to her. "Who would find a soft spot in their heart for the likes of you? My first guess would be Elijah, but he's got himself a girl. You wouldn't fall for someone like Kol." I bite my lip, smiling mischievously as she looked away uncomfortably. "I never would've pegged you for someone interested in bad boys."
"Our relationship is purely business." She interrupts. I raise an eyebrow at her and take a drink, not buying it for a second.
"Come now, we all know NiKlaus likes to mix business with pleasure." I joke but it wasn't appreciated by my audience. I chuckle. "I suppose he does need a therapist after a thousand years worth of guilt and betrayal."
"From what I can tell you could do with some couch time yourself." Camille answers. I look at her, anger flashing in my eyes. I consider snapping her neck and leaving her at the gates for the Mikaelsons. That was foolish but I was tempted. I scratch my cheek absently, narrowing my eyes at her. Cami had shown a slight bit of fear even as she said the words.
I smile slightly, my signature up-to-no-good look. Slitted eyes, small smirk, tilted head. "Alright Camille." I hum, chuckling. "Your honesty is refreshing." My eyes flick away from her, back to my drink which I swirl around slightly, tilting the glass in a slow circular motion.
"What do you want from me?" She asks exasperated. I roll my eyes.
"Clearly you don't know what friendship means. Here. Let me show you." I hold out my hand. "Hi. My name is Merida Helena Blair Athol Nic'Casket, daughter of mistress Blair Athol and King Fergus Casket. Fancy meeting you." Cami looked slightly amused and slightly annoyed. I hoped more of the former rather than later and by the way she completely ignored my held out hand I set it down on the bar.
"That's quite a name." She says instead. I nod.
"I was the offspring of two very powerful Scottish Clans. One was royalty in fact and the other a wealthy noble family." My words slip cleanly from my lips as though rehearsed. After a many century introducing who I was your words seemed to take on that tone when spoken.
"You're the daughter of a King?" Camille asks, turning to me. Her mood was only curious.
"Hardly. My father never had time for me. He spent most of his life during my childhood preparing his eldest to take over the thrown. My mother's sole purpose was to please him in any way possible, so it left me alone most days." I explain, then catch her softening gaze. "That's the way it was back then." I dismiss her pity filled eyes immediately. "The Bastard child." I hum slightly in amusement.
"That doesn't sound pleasant." She invited me to tell her more, turning to look at me. I narrow my eyes at her. But there wasn't anything I could tell her she could use against me. She was human and the only one who'd listen is Klaus, I take it, and he already knew all this.
"Well, my placement in the castle is what seemed to draw NiKlaus's interest. Kindred souls in a sort of way. Fighting for a voice." I pick absently at the end of my dress, relaying the story of my childhood as Camille ate it up. "He took over as a guardian. Showing more interest in raising me my parents never did. I didn't fear who he or his family was. They posed as knights and nobles to gain the King's trust and hospitality." I explain. "A tactic I've used many times over the centuries to gain allies."
"Do you have any other siblings besides the older sister?" Camille questions me, seemingly actually interested and wanting to hear about me. I suppose that was her job to do, head shrink and all that.
"Two brothers. One older, Bastian. One younger, Francis. I was the only daughter of the King who didn't have a royal title, though. They all had another mother." I explain. "Growing up, I'd only play with Francis. Bastian was preparing to become a knight. And Penelope to become the next Queen. The three of them were doted on. Sat every night with the King and dined like Princes and Princesses should. Me, I was lucky to get scraps."
"They didn't feed you?" Cami asked in dismay. I capture her gaze, shrugging.
"You've to understand, I meant nothing as a child if I could not work. Of course, when NiKlaus and his brothers arrived he made sure I was treated as the others." I pause. "Even better, some may say. He taught me what my father denied me. To wield a sword rather than shining it. To ride horses rather than muck out their stables. And one day, when I was much older and my mother grew ill and died, did he turn me into a vampire."
"He's quite paternal." Camille answers, and I crack a smile then raise an eyebrow.
"He was the family I always wanted growing up." I agree. "Up until the day I promised to lead his father astray." I then clench my jaw together. I wouldn't say more. I stand up off the stool. "Than you for the drink and the lovely chat Camille. I do hope I'll see you again soon." My voice was thick with swiftness. My movements clean as I sashayed to the door, pulling it shut behind me though the lock was broken.
Length: 2470 words