◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: ❛ vows new and broken ❜ ◢

✧

          KINGDOMS WERE ALWAYS DOOMED TO FALL. The Roman Empire, so high and mighty, nothing could tear them down – except, something did. The British tyranny and conquest of the world, oh how they fell and how their land turned harsh against them. Empires, kingdoms, they always fell, always broke down because someone else came and killed them.

It was the natural part of living, seeing the rise and fall of kingdoms and their rulers. The high and mighty...oh, how they always fall one day. On top of the world one second to be thrown towards the ground the next. Kings could always be replaced, and usually they were. One day the subjects overruled them or another king came to steal their kingdom to have the riches for themselves.

Kingdoms weren't always countries, sometimes they were cities. Sometimes they were just having complete authority of everything going on in the shadows which no one wants to talk about. Marcel was a king – and how he loved that title. The King of New Orleans, the one who existed in the shadows but had his hand in everything with everyone obeying his command. He was in charge, he made the rules, and everyone bowed to his mercy.

But Marcel had been overthrown, just like all mighty kings were one day, and now Niklaus Mikaelson stood tall. He ruled everything, existing in the shadows with his hand everywhere, taking all the riches Marcel once enjoyed and built up. Now, he was king – Marisol helped him get there.

At least, she was complicit in it anyway. She didn't stop him, she didn't warn Marcel, she played into his hand and slipped away from her hand because of past loves and past lives. Now, Klaus was king and the Mikaelsons were in charge of New Orleans. Marcel was just another subject now.

"You did it," Marisol turned to Klaus, looking down at the compound. A place she was familiar with, a place she intertwined with Marcel because this used to be his. This was where he threw his parties, this was his palace, and now this was the Mikaelsons.

"Yes," he looked awfully proud of himself, looking around at his old home turned new one again. It was empty now, just them and Hayley was somewhere else in another room. Marisol didn't know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. "I'm king."

"Don't get too cocky, kings always fall one day," she reminded him, eyes looking him up and down in a study. "You've been around long enough to at least know that."

Klaus didn't meet her eyes, but he didn't look pleased with her reminder. One might think it came from a friend as a warning, a caution not to be too arrogant out of care, but they both knew the truth. It was a simple fact, strained by the betrayal of friends and their own tangled history. This was not friendly; it was merely fact, small talk.

"I've seen plenty of people fall," he agreed, "But I won't let Marcel take this back – New Orleans is mine now."

Marisol looked away from him, sucking in a breath. "Why does it even matter? Being king? I, for one, have never cared for positions of power very much."

Klaus huffed out a bit of laughter, as if he found something in her comment funny even though she wasn't making a joke. Her eyes went back to him, but he didn't answer her. Only shook his head as if she would never understand him.

"It's not just about being king."

He didn't explain any further, causing her to raise an eyebrow. Even though she would never admit it, he was an interesting creature. Maybe in another life she would have enjoyed studying him further, but they were strained and that would never change.

"So what's it about then? Having power over Marcel? Your family? Or, don't tell me, you actually care about your child and you wanna protect her?" Marisol badgered him with questions, seeing which one would make him tick, but nothing did.

He shook his head. "Why don't you just accept the narrative that I'm the monster and move on?" he asked in a low voice, a bit of vulnerability in it.

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not one for accepting people as monsters. Might be my own trauma of believing myself to be one for so long, you'll have to forgive me."

Stepping away from her, Klaus shook his head a little, noise twitching only the slightest amount. She didn't mention it, probably already dug too far, so she turned away from him to look down at the empty compound again.

It was an unsettling sight for her. She was used to seeing the place filled with bodies, overwhelmed with the amount, suffocating her almost. If not humans and vampires mixed, just all the vampires Marcel and his people had turned that worked under him. The compound was never empty like this, it was always full, and it made her uncomfortable like this.

"Our deal's over," she changed the subject, turning back to him. "You're king. I helped you overthrow Marcel and in return you stop hunting me. I did my part."

Klaus nodded, empty eyes turning to her. "And I'll do mine. You're free. You can go anywhere and I won't chase after you."

It felt like a weight had lifted from her chest, knowing now that she was truly free. Even when she knew the Mikaelsons believed her dead, she still looked over her shoulder waiting for one to appear and kill her or Magnus. It was inevitable, wasn't it? But now she didn't have to do that. She could enjoy her life without the weight of someone coming after her.

She was free.

Her life was her own again, truly, and she was safe from the Mikelsons – Magnus was safe from them. That was all she ever wanted. If Klaus, Rebekah, or Elijah found them they wouldn't be murdered. They might not be friendly, but at least she didn't have to worry about being killed by one of them.

"Good," Marisol managed a nod, though her throat was closing over the overwhelming realization that she was free. Truly free for the first time ever in her life.

"I suppose this is goodbye now," he continued, eyeing her slightly.

Her head sharply turned to him, blinking and trying to control herself before clearing her throat. "I don't know. No."

He chocked his head, as if confused by her answer. She had never seen him confused like this, he was always so sure of himself, always one step ahead of everyone else at least.

"No?"

"No," she repeated, firmer this time, "I don't work under you anymore, so you better remember that, but Hayley is my friend and I'm not leaving her. Not until the baby is born and safe. I'm here to help her and to atone with Marcel. I betrayed him, but that doesn't mean the end of our friendship."

Klaus stayed silent for a moment before nodding. "Very well then. Have a room here. We have plenty of spares."

He walked away from her, and she practically collapsed in on herself onto the railing. She was free. Truly and really free for the first time in her life. No one deciding things for her, no obligation to another person, and no looking behind her shoulder to see if someone was there waiting to strike.

Free...

She wasn't sure she really knew what that meant yet, but she was determined to find out. She walked away, through the compound she knew fairly well from Marcel but now it seemed more intimate – a place where she lived, as did Hayley. Elijah and Rebekah forbidden since they betrayed their own flesh and blood – at least, that's how Klaus surely saw it.

She could hear rustling in a room so she knocked, hearing a response on the other side and twisting the knob to see Hayley preparing her room. Marisol eyed the place, seeing a teddy bear and the bible from the bayou along with other various items.

"It's coming along nicely," she complimented, because it only felt right.

"Thanks."

Hayley didn't look proud of the place, which was odd because Marisol always took pride in the places she stayed. Designing them to be exactly what she wanted. Paintings of flowers and bodies of water, glamor shots of Audrey Hepburn – a star who never failed to amaze Marisol. Everything was exactly what she wanted, but Hayley didn't look exactly proud of anything. There was barely any character in the room either.

"I'm sure Klaus would no problem if you want to go shopping with me. Add the finishing touch of your sparkling personality," she gave Hayley a smile. One with a bit of an edge but genuine in the end.

Hayley huffed out a small laugh but she shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm okay. It's not like he'll keep me around here after the baby's born, so there's no point."

She wanted to argue that point, assure Hayley that she would have a place to stay and a family even after the birth of her child, but Marisol wasn't so sure. The Mikaelsons were falling apart, Klaus isolating his siblings and pushing them far away. There was no family that Hayley promised her child, and there was no insurance that they would stay in the compound even long enough for Hayley to give birth.

Marcel may have fallen, but Marisol doubted he would stay down forever. Someday, he would rise back up and take back control. She was sure of it.

"Better to decorate a temporary home rather than live in what feels like a hotel," Marisol tried again, but Hayley shook her head, effectively turning down the offer.

"I heard you talking to Klaus. You said the deal's over," Hayley mentioned, though she didn't make eye contact as she placed pillows on her bed. "Is this goodbye?"

"You obviously didn't listen to everything if you're asking," Marisol told her, watching as Hayley's eyebrows furrowed so she explained her point, "No, this isn't goodbye. I'm staying here and I'm going to help you. You're my friend, Hayley, I'm not just going to abandon you."

Hayley let out a breath, probably out of relief, and she smiled at Marisol. "You're my friend, too," she confirmed, saying it back so Marisol knew where they stood together, "Thank you...for staying."

It broke her heart to see the hesitance in Hayley's eyes, the relief that Marisol wasn't going to run away because she had the chance. She was waiting for Marisol and everyone else to leave, to be left alone after the birth of her child, but Marisol wasn't leaving. It almost reminded her of a younger version of herself. Not letting anyone get close to her because soon enough she would have to leave so that she and Magnus would be safe, the Mikaelsons unable to find them.

"I'd never leave you," Marisol vowed.

She couldn't leave this, this younger version of herself, so used to people not staying because she never let them have the chance. It grew better with time, far removed from when she was a witch and Magnus a warlock, when the Mikaelsons would surely think her dead. But it never fully went away, the fear that people would never stay, because so many had left her over the years. Either running away themselves or being left behind because Marisol had to leave. She looked far too young for her supposed age, or because the overwhelming sadness knowing that they were wrinkling and greying but she still looked as young as the day they met taking her prisoner.

But she wouldn't leave Hayley. Not now, not like this. Not until Hayley was sure that people weren't just going to leave her behind and cast her aside like she was nothing. If not for Hayley then for herself.

The look in Hayley's eyes was enough to tell her everything she wished Marisol could express herself, had the chance to if someone said the same thing to her.

✧

AN HONORARY MEMBER of the Mikaelson family for now, and a friend of the old king of New Orleans, Marisol sat at the dinner table in the courtyard. At one end of the table was Klaus, the king, and on the other was Hayley, the new queen. She thought herself temporary, but for now, at least for appearance sake, she was his queen.

Though she sat across from Marcel, he had yet to meet her eyes, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight that a stupid mistake years ago now ended the friendship of someone she held dearly. Even Diego looked at her with such disgust, and she never thought that hatred from him would hurt so much.

The king lifted his glass, tapping it with his fork and gaining the attention of everyone present. Klaus always held himself highly, like a true ruler, with a proud smile on his face as he addressed his subjects with such poise and ease. He was familiar with this position of power, no discomfort found anywhere. If anything, it felt like he was utterly at home with all eyes upon him, waiting for his every word.

"Let us begin with a toast to our shared gift: immortality. After a thousand years, one might expect life to be less keenly felt, for its beauties and its sorrows do diminish with time. But, as vampires, we feel more deeply than humans could possibly imagine."

He gestured and soon a group of waiters and waitresses appeared almost out of nowhere, slitting their wrists and pouring the blood into the glasses of all the guests, minus Marisol and Hayley.

"Insatiable need, exquisite pain..." he continued before locking eyes with Marcel, "Our victories and our defeats," then he raised his glass, "To my city, my home again. May the blood never cease to flow..."

"...and the party never end!" Marcel finished for him, as if he had always been the right hand man standing by Klaus' side. Marisol almost raised an eyebrow, but for appearance's sake she kept it to herself, masking her face with a void and raising her glass of wine high to praise the new king's words.

"To New Orleans!" Diego added, eyes locking with Klaus for a second, who repeated his words with more vigor.

Marisol's eyes trained upon him for a moment as well, the man clinging onto Klaus and praising him so easy just as Marcel did. Peculiar.

"I understand that some of you may have questions regarding the recent change in leadership, and I invited you here tonight to assure you that you are not defeated," Klaus' eyes wandered around the table, "No, my intentions moving forward are to celebrate what we have. What Marcel, in fact, took and built for this true community of vampires."

"What about her?" Diego's eyes shifted, pointing at Hayley, "The wolf."

"Had you'd let me finish, Diego, you would know that there is, of course, one further matter I would like to address," Klaus walked over to Hayley, "As many of you know, the girl is carrying my child. Consequently, I trust you will all pay her the appropriate respect. However, I understand that some of you are concerned by this vicious rumor that I intend to use the blood of our child to create hybrids. I assure you I do not."

Hayley muttered sarcastically, "Father of the year."

"It appears I will have to earn your trust. Very well. We'll eliminate the root of your anxiety. You see, how can I sire any hybrids if there are no more werewolves alive in the bayou to turn?"

Marisol sat up straighter, heart pounding at the insinuation of where Klaus was going. "What? Klaus, no!" Hayley immediately protested, and Marisol couldn't help but look at Klaus with an incredulous expression on her face.

"So – eat, drink, and be merry. And, tomorrow, I suggest you have yourselves a little wolf hunt. Go ahead, have fun. Kill them all!" Klaus told them all, ignoring Hayley's only growing protests.

A pit in her stomach formed, and Marisol squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She expected a lot of different things from Klaus, but she never imagined he would allow something like this, especially if he wanted any semblance of a relationship with Hayley.

Though her appetite was gone, she endured the rest of dinner, sipping at her wine the most and barely touching the salad that had been prepared for her. She didn't think she would be handle much of it anyway, not after the display Klaus made. Here she thought there was some progress between them, but she supposed not. It probably meant nothing to him even though it had some value to her.

It wasn't a direct attack against her or even her pack, she had been a lone wolf her whole life, but it was still an attack against her friend. These were Hayley's people, and Klaus had no care for them, and that was an attack against her. Before, when Marcel told her what he had done against the wolves, it never mattered. She had no ties to them, but now she did, and if Klaus eradicated those ties Hayley would never forgive him and Marisol didn't think she could either.

Yet soon, but not soon enough, dinner was over and the party members were allowed to leave. Marisol stood up from the table last, watching Hayley practically storm off to her room and part of Marisol wanted to go after her and comfort the angry girl. She stopped herself before, though, because Hayley would be there all night and she time to hold Hayley, but she didn't have forever to talk to Marcel and she knew they needed to speak.

She wasn't about to let their friendship dissolve and not do everything in her power to salvage it.

"Marcel!" she called out to him when they were outside. His eyes flashed when anger when he saw her and he turned away. "Wait, we need to talk."

"No, I don't think we do," he shook his head, walking further away but she was nothing if not stubborn and continued to follow him.

"Just let me explain, alright?" she caught him arm, tugging it so he was forced to look at her. "I know you're angry, and I know that I betrayed you, but please – just let me tell you why."

Marcel scoffed at her. "Is there anything you can say?"

"Yes," she said with hard conviction, hoping it would convince him that this was serious enough that he needed to stop and truly look at her instead of turning her away again. His eyes bore into her, so deeply and intently but she didn't dare break eye contact because she needed him to listen to her, to let her explain herself.

"Fine," he relented, "Say what you want."

"I know how it looks," she started, watching how he huffed out a laugh as if that was an understatement, "But if I had the choice, I would've never worked with him. I haven't been entirely honest from the start, I know that, but I met Klaus for the first time five hundred years ago."

"You're a vampire?" Marcel questioned.

She shook her head. "No, just your typical cursed werewolf. I never said anything because it's not like you're okay with werewolves or anything. I should've said something after we became friends, but I didn't want to ruin anything. I'm still me – just on the full moons I transform into a wolf. But, when I met Klaus, we didn't exactly leave on the best terms. When he came back to New Orleans, he said he'd kill me if I didn't help him. I never meant to hurt you."

Marcel stared at her, clenching his jaw for a moment as his hard eyes pressed into hers. "You're my friend, Mars, you always have been, and you know how I treat people who betray me."

She parted her lips at a loss. He didn't take kindly to betrayal, locking them away in his garden of desiccating vampires, so it seemed that there was no coming back from this. Yet another tarnished friendship because of her lies.

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry," she told him, because he at least needed to hear that. She needed to get it off her chest.

He scoffed at her, and the next moment he was gone. Left alone, Marisol took a moment to hold herself together and stop herself from crying because that's all she wanted to do at the moment. But she couldn't, not with the city watching her and not with people waiting for her return to the compound. She needed to be strong, but she felt so terribly weak.

First the realization of just how little she meant to Elijah, how he dreamed of Celeste and loved Celeste but not her, and now this – the ruins of her friendship. She wanted to be in Marcel's arms...no, she wanted to be Magnus' arms. She wanted her family back, she wanted to run away and leave it all behind and run back to her heart because he was always there for her through all her mistakes.

But she couldn't leave. She promised Hayley that she wouldn't, so she was there to stay. This was not a time in which she could leave, bound to her friends but ultimately free. She had a duty to not let Hayley become her – alone forever, only Magnus by her side through it all.

Her hands ruffled through her pocket before she found her phone, opening it up and clicking on Magnus' contact. She looked around the streets of New Orleans, always alive and always joyous, and felt even more anxious at the thought of someone listening in and learning all her deepest secrets, but she needed to hear his voice.

"Marisol?" she heard on the other end, and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Magnus," she practically cried, he was there – he was always there, "It's so good to hear your voice. I just – I've had a really bad day."

"Are you okay? Do you want me to go get you? I don't mind a trip to New Orleans if you need me there – and you know you're always free to join me," Magnus rushed into action.

She couldn't help but let out a little laugh, elated that he was always ready to help her. Oh, how her heart wept for him always. "No, I'll be okay. You don't need to come get me, I just need to hear your voice."

"Alright," he relented, but didn't sound pleased she didn't want him there, "Do you wanna talk about your day?"

"I can officially say that I'm no longer friends with Marcel. You're probably happy, actually, but it wasn't his fault. He didn't ruin anything, I did. I – I kept secrets and betrayed him and now he hates me. I'm used to people hating me, I should be used to it, but for some reason I'm not. I don't want him to hate me," she lamented, pouring her heart out to him.

"I doubt he hates you. I don't know how anyone who gets to know you could hate you. You're perfect, Mars."

"No, I'm not," she protested, because the countless mistakes she could list on the top of her head were all reasons she was nowhere near that. She was a mess, an absolute mess, and Marcel was right to cut her off. She betrayed him, she should've expected this response, but for some reason she still had hope that he would stay and they could work it out.

"Yes, you are. You're perfect to me. Now, tell me what happened. How did you supposedly betray him?" Magnus asked, a mocking tone when he inquired.

She gulped, because she couldn't have another person hate her that she loved dearly – especially not her heart. "I haven't been entirely honest with you either. The Mikaelsons – they're here. I've been working with them. Not because I want to, alright? It's just, Klaus found me and he said he'd kill me if I didn't help him. The deal's over now but there's a werewolf, Hayley, and she's pregnant with his child and I told her I wouldn't leave until the baby was born. I need to protect the child."

It was silent for a moment and Marisol felt a bundle of nerves course throughout her system, biting her lip and praying to any entity that could possibly be out there that Magnus didn't hate her for this. Then: "I understand, but be careful. I mean it, Marisol, they're dangerous and I doubt they'd care if they had to use you or kill you. Look out for yourself."

"I always do," she promised him, letting out a breath of relief knowing that they were fine. Marcel might hate her, but Magnus always loved her. She always had her heart, and with him by her side, she could get through anything.

Tomorrow, she would face the world again with a brave look on her face, but for tonight she could weak with Magnus on the phone, pouring everything to him and know for certain that he would always be there. Tonight, she was weak.