chapter eighteen,

a voice whispered into her ear. "Marian." A finger poked her face. "Wake up." She groaned, turning her head to the side. "Marian!"

Sitting up quickly, she groaned as she hit her head on something hard, a yelp escaping her as she saw a young boy holding his forehead beside the couch where she'd fallen asleep. Thankfully, Jack and Hannah had managed to get her home before her mother had returned from work, but she had been so hungover that she couldn't leave the house.

"Who are you!" she exclaimed, pushing herself up against the back of the couch as she threw a cushion at him.

"It's me!" the boy replied. "Henrik!"

She stopped, her eyes widening as she stared at him. She didn't remember him from her childhood, but she knew that he was quite young when he died, and his clothes looked similar to the ones she remembered her family wearing. "That's impossible," she said. "Henrik's dead. He died a thousand years ago when—"

"I was attacked by a werewolf. I know," he said. "Something's happened on the Other Side. I don't know how long I have, but I want to spend whatever time I have with you."

Marian wasted no time in leaping out of her bed, hugging the boy tightly. She couldn't believe that after all this time she was finally meeting the youngest of her uncles.

"You're even more beautiful than your mother," he said. "What I can remember of her, anyway."

Marian laughed. "You're younger than I remember."

"Yeah, well you were so young when I died, I'm surprised you even know who I am."

Marian let go of him. "What do you mean? Of course I know who you are. You're like, the most sane of the Mikaelsons according to Rebekah. She said you were the one who kept the peace."

Henrik shrugged. "Yeah, well I was the baby of the family. That was my job." He stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I guess that's your job now." He laughed. "This is ridiculous. I must look stupid to you. I'm a child again!"

"What do you mean?"

"I grew up a bit on the Other Side, and now I'm back to my prepubescent self. It's humiliating," he explained. Marian laughed.

"Wait," she said. "If you're here, does that mean that others—?"

"There is a weakness in the Other Side, and some of us got let out," he told her. "I came straight here because I wanted to meet you, but I also heard some things. The witches like to gossip over there—people really don't like Damon Salvatore, do they?"

The girl scoffed. "It's a wonder he's still alive," she admitted.

"You almost married him, so I guess you're as stupid as he is," Henrik said, a smirk on his face.

Marian opened her mouth in shock. "How...?" She had no idea how he knew about her engagement to the man.

"I've been keeping an eye on you," he told her. "On everyone, but mostly you. You're the most interesting."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You grow up and you grow old. You change every lifetime. Everyone else is boring," he explained. "Finn... well, there's not much to say about him—poor lad. Elijah believes his life's purpose is to redeem Niklaus who seeks to take out his rage and fear on everyone regardless of the consequences, Kol—no offence—is an idiotic psychopath who likes women and getting drunk on blood, and Rebekah hates the world because Niklaus won't let her love. It's the same story, over and over and over. But you, you change every time I see you."

"Wow," said Marian with a laugh. "I guess I do have the most interesting life out of all of them."

"What I can't get over is how you almost married Damon Salvatore," he continued. "I've always been good at figuring out what's going on in your head, but to this day I still don't understand why you chose him." He looked up at her, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Why him? Why not Stefan?"

"Stefan's not really my type," she answered.

He didn't look fully convinced, his eyes narrowing skeptically. "Whatever," he said. "Look, we have bigger things to worry about than your weird choice in men."

Marian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Katherine got to Mikael and he's—" The boy stopped talking, hearing something smash downstairs. Both their eyes widened in fear.

"Do you think that was..." Marian whispered.

Henrik shook his head, seeming unsure himself. "No," he said, his voice shaky. "It can't be. There's no way."

The two inched towards Marian's bedroom door, opening it and creeping towards the staircase. Neither looked at each other, peering over the rail and down the stairs.

"You go first," Henrik whispered. The girl looked at him with bewilderment. "What? I'm a child," he said, putting his hands in the air.

"You're older than me!" she whispered back harshly.

"Not in this life, baby." He winked as Marian rolled her eyes, going down one step at a time. "What do we do if it is him?" he whispered in her ear.

"Then we pray to the ancestors that my magic will work," she answered.

"And if that doesn't work?"

"We run and hope he's gotten slower with age."

They heard a noise from the kitchen. Glancing at each other, they stepped towards it, Marian holding up the baseball bat she'd taken from behind her bedroom door. She yelped in shock as she saw her mother standing in the kitchen, a mug shattered on the floor in front of her.

"Mom!" Marian yelled. "Oh my God! I thought there was someone in the house!"

Carrie's head shot up. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to wake you," she said, her eyes looking questioningly at the boy behind her daughter. "Who's that?"

"Hm?" Marian said, looking behind her. "Oh, that's Henry," she easily lied. "I was helping him with his maths homework."

"Hi," Henrik said with a wave, smiling awkwardly.

"Why's he dressed like that?" Carrie muttered, hoping only her daughter could hear.

"He likes to pretend he's living in the tenth century," Marian explained, a smirk on her lips as she noticed Henrik's back straighten.

Carrie pursed her lips, utterly confused by this information. "I'll leave you to it, then," she said, a forced smile on her face. Marian laughed at her mother's behaviour; Carrie had never been terribly with children—Marian's childhood had been... interesting. She smiled as there was a knock on the front door. "Oh, that'll be him," she said excitedly. "Come in!"

"Who is it?" Marian asked.

"I wanted you to finally meet my boyfriend," Carrie told her, walking up to the hallway as the man appeared. Marian felt her heart stop as she saw the man she'd feared her whole life wrap an arm around her mother's waist, a sickening smirk on his face.

"Father?" Henrik muttered.

"I'm Mikael," he said.

Instinctively, Marian stepped in front of Henrik, taking a hold of his hand. "What did she mean 'boyfriend'?" the boy whispered in her ear.

"Annie," she introduced through her teeth, glaring at her grandfather. She wondered how long Mikael had known Carrie—Katherine had only woken Mikael the day before, that she knew for sure—and what he'd done to Carrie's real boyfriend. Perhaps he killed him, just like he would kill her.

"Henry," said Henrik.

"Pleased to meet you," said Mikael smoothly, trying to hide his surprise. He almost hadn't recognised his youngest son.

"The pleasure's all yours," Marian seethed.

Carrie's eyes widened in shock. "Annie!" she chastised. She'd thought that Marian would approve of him; after all, Marian had been begging her to meet her boyfriend for years.

"Mom, he's not who you think he is," she tried.

"What are you talking about?" Carrie asked, frowning at her daughter. Marian tensed as she saw Mikael's smirk deepen, his face nearing her mother's neck.

"We need to do something," Henrik mumbled firmly.

"I'm thinking," Marian said through the corner of her mouth.

Mikael pressed a gentle kiss on the side of Carrie's neck. The woman blushed as she laughed, pushing his face away. "Mikael!" she gasped, shocked by his sudden action.

Marian glared at him as he went again, though this time she could see that his fangs has protruded through his gums. Her grip on Henrik's hand tightened, her arms tense and shaking.

"Ow!" cried the boy, feeling as if he'd been shocked. He quickly pulled his hand away from hers. Marian paid no mind, not noticing as a flame came to life behind her. Carrie's eyes widened at the sight, screaming as it grew at an alarming rate. "Marian, stop it," said Henrik.

She continued to glare intensely at Mikael, not caring about the alarm the other two shared as the fire spread and moved towards them. Mikael tightened his grip around Carrie's waist as she tried to rush forward to try and extinguish it.

"Let my mom go," Marian growled.

"Tell me where Niklaus is," he replied, his mouth dangerously close to Carrie's neck.

"Mikael, stop it," the woman protested.

He ignored her, smirking up at his granddaughter. "Three," he mocked, looking directly into her eyes. "Two." His lips touched her mother's skin. "One."

"No!" Marian screamed as he bit into her neck, draining the blood from Carrie's body. Pushing her arms forward, the flames quickly moved towards him. Henrik lunged forward towards his father, trying and stop him from killing his niece's mother.

Mikael gave a pleasurable sigh as he lifted his face from her neck, letting her body fall to the ground. Marian could see that she wasn't dead, but she knew that it was only a matter of time.

"You're foolish to think that you can defeat me, boy," he spat to his son. "I made you."

"And look where that got me," said the boy. Both rushed towards each other, Mikael pinning Henrik to a wall by his neck. The boy clawed at his hand in an effort to breathe.

Marian began to uncontrollably as the heavy smoke reached her nose, bringing her arm to her mouth.

"You'd really choose to side with them?" Mikael asked his son. "With her?"

"She is my niece," said Henrik, still struggling to breathe with Mikael's hand around his neck. "And they are my family."

Mikael growled, throwing him harshly to the ground, breaking a chair. "Then you are just as pathetic as she is," he said, pointing at Marian. He moved towards her, the flames growing taller as he stepped forward. Suddenly, Henrik sprung up, a piece of wood—part of the chair—in his hand. He cried out as he pushed it through Mikael's back, piercing his heart. The man fell to his knees, a shocked expression on his face as he began to desiccate.

"Go!" Henrik yelled, coughing as he too fell to the ground. Marian looked at him desperately, then to her mother. "There's no time! You have to go!" he urged. "Now!" Still, Marian didn't move. She had tears in her eyes, stinging as the smoke mixed with them. She could hardly breathe now, her arm over her mouth and nose.

"I can't leave you!" she argued.

Henrik shook his head. "It was truly amazing to meet you again, Marian. But it's time for you to go."

She yelped as arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the burning flames and the three people still inside. She cried out, yelling for them to stop. She didn't want to leave her mother. She didn't want to leave Henrik. She couldn't—he'd only just come back.

"Annie!" said the person as they made it outside. "Calm down!"

She couldn't breathe; the smoke had been too much. It felt as if her lungs were shrinking, her throat tightening as a lump formed at the back of it. She tried to breathe, gasping for air.

part ii:

tvd s3, e7, ""

wc: