◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗: ❛ hell hath
no fury ❜ ◢

✧

         SILENCE WAS A DEADLY PREDATOR. It lulled its victims into a false sense of security, allowing them to relax in the peace during the times of a brewing war until they closed their eyes and shut out the sound of everything around them, then grasped them from behind and dragged them into battle. Silence was an assassin who crept ever so slightly into your life and then, in the next moment, you had no life left.

And for someone as old as Marisol, who had run as far as she had, who had battled vampires for her entire existence, the silence should've made her more paranoid. But, everyone had their falters, and in these times of war with the witches already cross and the vampires massacring and the humans conspiring in their own corner, not to mention the werewolves rising to power again...a moment of peace was more than necessary, so she allowed herself to fall. Just for a moment. Only a moment.

But a moment was all that was required. And in her moment of peace, faltering in the nice silence of the New Orleans streets, she didn't sense danger until it was too late, and hands grasped around her from the back, covering her mouth and binding her arms, dragging her away before she could fight.

Her stomach swirled as she sped away from the French Quarter and she couldn't even keep her eyes open to see where she was being brought to until everything stopped. She stepped harshly onto the foot of her captor until they released her, looking around wildly for a fight as she saw Diego behind her. Raising her arm to throw a punch, her hand was captured.

"Easy, girl," Marcel's voice rang behind her, "Calm down. Diego was just listening to me."

Marisol held her pose until Diego moved away and it was pointless, sending a glare to Marcel until he released her. Then, she punched him. He deserved it, kidnapping her. "Dick," she spat at him, "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Marcel rubbed his cheek where she hit him, "Come, have a seat."

She didn't, for a moment, just standing and watching as he sat down and expectantly brought out his hand to gesture for her to join. She looked around his loft as she moved towards the table, sitting and pointedly ignoring his smirk as he began to pour tea into a cup for her.

"Very British of you," she commented.

"I'm just trying to be a good host," Marcel winked.

"Well, you're failing seeing as to invite me to your house you kidnapped me," she snapped at him, but did pour some sugar in her cup and swirled the liquid, "That was very rude of you, by the way."

Marcel sighed. "I did try to contact you another way, last time, and you refused to see me."

"Because you want to talk politics and taking back New Orleans and destroying the Mikaelsons. I'm not interested in that, by the way," Marisol stated.

"Unless it comes to Elijah," he pointed his spoon at her.

She rolled her eyes, taking a sip before bringing the cup back to the table. "I tolerate the talk of politics because I want to be with Elijah, and I support a democracy. Which you are actively trying to destroy, so it's not like you're getting any brownie points from me. So if you're going to try and convince me to join your cause, stop."

"I actually just wanted to talk to my friend," Marcel shrugged, "And tell you that your boyfriend killed Thierry."

"As punishment for the stunt you pulled," Marisol fired back, "Yes, I already knew about that, don't look so surprised. Elijah told me."

"And you're okay with it?" Marcel questioned, eyeing her as he took a sip of his own tea.

Marisol shrugged. "I know he was your friend, but I barely knew him. And you can't act all hurt over it after the stunt you pulled which caused his death. This isn't a pick and choose situation."

He didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at her, and she took another sip. It was cold of her, but she couldn't always be someone who cared too much. Sometimes her heart had to be closed off and her eyes turned away. Besides, death had followed her since she was sixteen, and now she was far removed from that age. Death wasn't as shocking anymore – especially the deaths of those she didn't know or barely knew.

Thierry was a tragedy, sure, and he shouldn't have died, but he was. Nothing could change that fact now. Not weeping, not showing sympathy, not rebuking Elijah for his actions. He did as he thought should be done, just as Marcel did. A price had to be paid for it.

She cleared her throat, moving some of her hair behind her shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss, Marcel, but I don't weep for him. And his death isn't going to convince me to help you rise back to power, especially because I don't see why you have to be the man in charge."

"New Orleans is my home."

"Well, it's lovely that you have one, but I've had plenty of homes over the years and I never saw the need to control them," Marisol pointed out, "No, don't give me that reason. Tell me the truth: why do you have to be the king?"

Marcel's eyes flickered away from her for a split second before matching her gaze. "New Orleans has been mine for a century, and I've brought it to new heights. I've given vampires power, I've built this city into what it is, and I'm not willing to let Klaus Mikaelson steal all of my work and claim it as his own."

Marisol huffed out a laugh. "It's about Klaus. Of course. Look, I don't know your history with him, what it was like having him as your father figure – though I don't imagine it went well – but of course. You just can't let him swoop him and take the credit."

"It might've been his city a long time ago, but now it's mine. I will take it back," Marcel vowed.

She eyed him for a moment. "Okay. I won't stand in your way if you want to take the crown from Klaus, but promise me this. It's not going to go back to the vampires ruling everything and oppressing everyone. And I say that not because I particularly care for the other factions, but if you continue with your monarchy, New Orleans will be brought to ruins. Hell, it's practically already heading it that way.

"The way you've run this town has caused an uprising. The witches are planning something for a grab at the power, and you know that. The werewolves are willing to give anything to take control and the humans...well, I don't know what their plan is yet but with that Francesca woman in charge, they're going to become a great enemy. I know it. So no more monarchy if you want New Orleans to even be standing in another century."

She brought out her hand for him to shake, and he barely hesitated before taking it. "You'll be going against Klaus and Elijah."

"Klaus lost my loyalty when he traded it for political gain," Marisol stated, continuing when Marcel raised an eyebrow, "He has a moonlight ring – a daylight ring for a werewolf which suppresses the effects of the full moon. Of course, he never entertained the thought of giving it to me when he could use it to gain the trust of the wolves. And I'm not going against Elijah. I'm not fully on your side, but I'm not against you either. Whatever you do, you have no resistance from me."

Marcel smirked. "You're one hell of a woman, Marisol Bigora."

She tipped her tea cup towards him like it was a glass of wine. "Why, thank you, Marcel Gerard. To a better New Orleans."

"To a better New Orleans," he nodded towards her, and the both took a sip of their tea to complete the deal.

✧

THE BAYOU SMELT awful, and again she wondered why anyone would willingly live there. For as much as she disliked the wolves, and their desire for an alliance with Klaus because of those damned moonlight rings, Elijah asked her to join him and when he looked at her with those eyes that made her feel like the most important person in the world, well, how could she ever deny him? So even though she would much rather spend the day throwing darts at a picture of Klaus – which was printed and ready to go – in the common room of the Compound so that he might stumble in and find her, she was here. In the bayou. With that awful smell.

Oh, the things she did for Elijah.

"Pardon my interruption," Elijah announced himself when they arrived, "I wonder if I might have a quick word with the conspirators of a supposed uprising."

Hayley looked at Eve before standing up and going to get Oliver and Jackson, and when they all were gathered the talks began again. "You're making a grave mistake," Elijah sought to warn them.

"So, you're just worried about us. Is that it?" Oliver crossed his arms, puffing out his chest a little. Marisol couldn't help but roll her eyes at him for the move.

"Look, Elijah. We know all about your brother's reputation, but if there is even a chance that these rings can help us take control of our curse –"

"– our gift –"

"– Then honestly, we don't care what he's really after. Won't have to," Jackson finished, sending a small glare to Oliver when he interrupted him.

"What about when he's done with you?" Marisol spoke up, and all eyes turned to her. Oliver for the first time raised an eyebrow, "You don't have to care about what he wants with you, because he has a use for you if he's giving you that, but what about when he's done with you? Klaus Mikaelson doesn't like loose ends, and that's what you'll be eventually."

Oliver huffed. "He wouldn't get rid of us."

"Why not? What makes you so special that he wouldn't dare lay a hand on you?" Marisol questioned him, "Everyone is expendable to him. Not too long ago he was trying to kill his sister, his own blood, and he doesn't even have a connection to any of us besides Hayley, so..."

"I won't let Klaus do anything to hurt my people," Hayley stood up defensively.

Marisol eyed her bump then locked eyes with Hayley. "You can only keep him at bay for so much longer."

That seemed to do the trick as he faltered, and in the end Elijah brought his hand to her arm as a signal to take a step back. As much as she wanted to keep fighting the wolves at their stupidity, she stopped talking and let him take the front again.

"There are those in the Quarter who will consider the moonlight ring as a great provocation," Elijah informed them.

"Apparently, most of them see us breathing the same way," Oliver jabbed.

Elijah turned to Hayley solely then. "You signed a pledge, and you looked me in the eye as you did so."

Hayley shook her head. "We don't want a fight, Elijah. We just want a better life."

"Allegiance with my brother will guarantee you anything but that," Elijah vowed. Marisol nodded her head in agreement, because Klaus only knew war not peace.

Hayley opened her mouth to continue when the sound of a motorbike approaching cut her off. They all looked to the door before going out of it to see what was going on.

"What the hell?" Jackson muttered.

A group of wolves approached the man as he looked around. "Which one of you is in charge?" he yelled.

"Who's asking?" Jackson took a step forward. Marisol frowned, also taking a step forward before Elijah sprinted forward in inhuman sped, tackling the man just as the motorbike exploded.

She barely had a moment to register it before the blast forced her back and prone, she yelled out as the heat burned her skin and shrapnel impaled her. Forcing herself up, she leaned all her weight on her hand, looking around. There was a ringing in her ears and she could barely focus on anyone, and then again with inhuman sped, Elijah was in front of her, holding her face until she focused on him.

"Marisol? Marisol?" it was muffled and out of place, the ringing still a constant in her brain.

"Elijah?" she couldn't even hear her own voice, but she knew her mouth moved. He looked at her with such concern and worry, bringing his wrist to his lips, biting down then offering his arm to her. She didn't hesitate to let his blood trickle down her throat and heal her, letting a moment pass as her wounds began to heal and her hearing returned to normal. "Thank you."

He pressed a kiss on her forehead before helping her out, the two walking to the injured motorcycle man seeing chemical and heat burns. "Wolfsbane," he explained.

"It must have been in the gas tank," Hayley came up to them, "You're the fastest. Take him, anyone else who can't walk on their own."

She handed him a little boy and Elijah hesitated for a second before helping the little boy with his blood. Marisol walked away from him, looking around as she saw Hayley leaving, a wooden stake in her hand. She ran as fast as she could, catching up with the pregnant woman and pushing her into a tree, stopping her.

"What are you doing?" Marisol asked her.

"Making Marcel pay," Hayley snapped, "I know that he's the one who did this, and he's going to pay the price."

Marisol shook her head. "This isn't Marcel, trust me. He wouldn't do anything to harm a child. It's against his code."

"Oh yeah? I don't believe you. Don't try and stop me," Hayley shrugged off her grip.

Marisol huffed, continuing to walk beside her. "You don't have to like Marcel, even tolerate him, but you need to understand one thing: this wasn't him. Marcel doesn't care about the wolves, at least not right now, his only priority is Klaus."

"So he harms me to get to him," Hayley shook her head.

"No, you're getting it all wrong. I don't know who it is, but it's not Marcel. If you truly don't believe me, I'll take you to him and he can tell you himself. Just give up the stake," Marisol crossed her arms. Hayley didn't let go of it so Marisol continued, "What are you planning on doing with it? You're pregnant with the sped of a human and no vampire hunting training. Marcel can easily out maneuver you so it's already useless against him."

Hayley angrily threw the crudely made stake onto the ground marching towards her car with Marisol following. She went to the driver's side of the car, turning it on before getting out her phone and calling Elijah.

"Where are you?" Elijah greeted her, mild panic in his voice.

"I'm with Hayley. We're going to figure out who sent the bombs to the wolves but we're okay," she assured him as she began to drive, barely sparing a glance to the pregnant woman.

"Be safe," Elijah told her.

"Always," and then she hung up the phone. She gave another glance towards Hayley before texting Marcel that they were on the way, trying to do it without the other woman noticing before locking her phone and focusing on the road.

"You're almost due," Marisol said, turning right.

Hayley was quiet for a moment before changing the conversation slightly, "What do you think Klaus is going to do with me? After, I mean. You don't have the highest opinion on his loose ends."

Marisol sighed. "I said that because if you're running from Klaus Mikaelson for five hundred years, you have to keep up with him. Know his whereabouts, his enemies and his friends. You learn who he's killed and why. Klaus doesn't like letting his enemies live, or those who could turn into them. So, I don't know what he's going to do with you. I certainly think he at least has some respect for you because he's not keeping you locked inside the Compound. That says something."

"Yeah," Hayley breathed out, but sound like she agreed with Marisol.

The rest of the ride was quiet until they got to Marcel's loft. In true Marcel fashion, he was already expecting them and had drinks ready. He gestured for them to join. "Come on in. have a seat. It'd offer you a drink, but..." he eyed Hayley's baby bump as an explanation, but nodded towards Marisol as she poured herself a glass.

"Nice pad," Hayley said with an air of sarcasm as she looked around, taking a seat across from Marcel. Marisol herself sat beside him.

"Oh, it's just temporary," Marcel waved her comment off, "Friend hooked me up. Believe it or not, I still got a few of those kicking around. I need friends to keep me informed, to warn me when someone is coming looking to blame me for things that I didn't do. For the record, you didn't have to work Diego like that. You and I are long overdue for a chat."

Hayley raised an eyebrow. "You want to talk? Talk."

"Tough girl. You're a lot like your dad in that way," Hayley stared at him and he smirked, "Oh, yeah. I knew him. I knew your whole family. In fact, if you knew them like I did, you'd know just how many enemies they have. Back in the nineties, it was the Crescent wolves who took over the city. Or, tried to. They lived to throw down, and they were good at it, too. They didn't care who they killed as long as they got more power."

"So the Crescent curse was your way of stopping them? How heroic," Hayley commented with a bite of anger.

"It was either that or kill them all, and I'm not big on indiscriminate slaughter," Marcel shrugged, "See, I have a this thing about kids."

Hayley eyed Marisol. "So I've heard," but her tone implied that she still didn't believe that.

Marcel's smirk deepened. "Oh, you did more than hear about it, Andrea Labonair. You're living proof."

Hayley's eyes widened, reeling back a little and even Marisol herself was a little surprised because she didn't know that piece of information. Huh. "How long have you known who I am?" Hayley asked.

"I saw how interested you were in those Crescents. After your little family reunion out at the old plantation house, I started to put two and two together."

"Tell me something, Marcel," Hayley leaned in, getting more serious as she locked eyes with him, "Did you kill my parents?"

"There was in-fighting among the wolves. Your folks were laying low. Somebody turned on them. I honestly don't know who. I got there afterwards, found you in your crib," Marcel answered.

Her eyes didn't believe him. They all knew it. "Give me one good reason why I should believe anything that you have to say."

"Believe whatever you want, but you were the last Labonair. I mean, could've been a lot of leverage for our side, but instead, I took you to Father Kieran," Marcel said instead before taking out a duffle bag and sliding it over to her.

"What's that?" Hayley asked.

"Money, mostly. Stuff you need to start over someplace safe. Whatever happened in the Bayou, I'm not your guy. But, the way things are going? Eventually, I might have to be."

"So this is your grand plan? Get me out of town, and Klaus and Elijah follow closely behind?" Hayley fired the questions off.

"I can't say that wouldn't be a positive side effect," Marcel shrugged.

"So why don't you leave? Follow your own advice?"

"I was born here, Hayley," Marcel answered her, the same way he answered Marisol the day before.

"So was I."

Hayley got up and began to leave. Marcel sped in front of her, blocking her way out. "Guy on the bike? The bomber? Word is, he had a gambling problem. Owed money to the casinos – more importantly, to the humans who run them. And Hayley? When things get bad, remember, I tried to get you clear of it again."

Hayley only hesitated for another moment before leaving, not even asking Marisol if she was coming. She wasn't, but still. It was the principle of the matter. Marisol took another sip of her drink as she watched Marcel stare at where Hayley was.

"You did good," she complimented him, "But you should she would've never taken it. Not in a million years."

"I know, but I had to offer," he sighed, sitting down with her and taking her glass, sipping at it.

She scoffed at him, forcefully taking her drink back. "I gave the same out to Davina," she didn't watch his face morph into surprise over the revelation, "She's just a kid, and she's so sad with the witches, so I gave her a way out. With Magnus. Hasn't taken it yet, and I'm afraid that she won't even though she should."

"I'll talk to her," Marcel mentioned and she nodded.

"Is it true? About the humans?" she asked and he nodded, "Shit. I knew they were planning something, but I would've never imagined this. That's fine, though, we'll just have to deal with them sooner than later. After all, humans are no match to supernaturals in the end."

"So much for democracy," Marcel joked.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not against violence if it serves a purpose – and it definitely will."

"Atta girl," Marcel smirked, nudging her a little. She shoved him slightly but didn't do anything else to dissuade him.

✧

THE SUN HAD long since gone down when Marisol returned to the Compound, finding Elijah and Klaus together drinking and looking a little too proud of themselves. She raised an eyebrow at them, debating internally whether to ask about it or just continue on as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, but curiosity ended up getting the best of her.

"What's going on here?" she pointed in between the two of them.

"Elijah has finally come to his senses and has joined my side officially," Klaus joyously announced, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Marisol's jaw tightened but she didn't say anything directly about it. "Marcel says that the bombs were the works of the humans," she informed him, "Apparently the bomber had a debt to pay to the casinos, so they've officially made their first move."

"You went to see Marcel?" Elijah asked her.

"Yes," she stared at him, "Hayley was planning on staking him so I had to stop her. Marcel has a thing against kids so I knew it wasn't him, but she didn't believe me. And, well, we figured it out in the end."

"Anything else he's planning?" Klaus stood up, taking another sip as he turned towards her.

"And what would I know about his plans? I'm not on his side – I'm not on anyone's. Not fully, anyway," Marisol gave him a fake smile.

"Oh, come on, love. Don't be like that. My brother has finally agreed to join me, so why won't you?" Klaus asked, full of grandeur with no genuine response underneath.

"Simple. I don't like you," she answered without a moment of hesitation, "Now I'm off to bed, but don't mind me, keep drinking to your alliance."

She left them be, taking a shower and readying for bed, with only dread in her stomach for what was to come. The witches had been quiet, and she was paranoid of their silence, but now the humans...they were showing their cards. And that was quite the problem.