(CHAPTER ELEVEN :
GRAVE REVELATIONS)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

IN TRUTH, GETTING TO my destination took an unnecessarily long time. New Orleans — known to some as The Big Easy — was approximately two thousand five hundred and nine miles away from Portland. If I was unable to compel transport and bend the rules of the law, I would have lost my intolerant mind with the time it should have taken. Although I didn't like using compulsion often, I held no shame in it. I mean, I wasn't hurting anybody by taking a few short cuts on the road and borrowing a modern, high-speed car.

Even with my arrival, I couldn't escape what I was running from with my phone vibrating madly every hour or two. Filled with texts informing me Bonnie Bennett was doing a location spell and Damon Salvatore would have my head on a stick if I didn't come home soon, I couldn't find a moment of peace. And that was all I truly wanted. Perhaps my friends thought Mystic Falls had my heart, but I would never be wholly there until I had closure. If the trip went smoothly, I would return soon once I had the comfort of knowing both my parents had been laid to rest and I was fully healed. Over time, I had been broken and beaten down by my parents and to move on sounded rejuvenating, in the least. Like a Phoenix, it was time I was reborn.

In reflection, there was a fatal flaw in my picture perfect plan — I didn't know where my Mother was buried. It was big here too, I'd already passed two cemeteries as I wandered aimlessly, resembling a lost tourist more than anything else. "Excuse me," I would call every minute or so, tapping the shoulder of a stranger nearby. "Ethel Hatton. I'm looking for Ethel Hatton." I attempted, rehearsed as the last six times I spoke. Futile, it was futile because it seems I didn't do well with the hustle and bustle of a big city with my humanity on. Back in New York, I was extortionate and brave without a second though. Here, I blended in.

Enraged, I forcefully clutched the shoulder of a brunette that was passing by. She was young, but radiated a strong aura, enough to make me think she might have been of help. "Let go of me, vampire." The girl hissed, taking me by surprise because I concealed my fangs fairly well so far.

"Supernatural?" I arched a brow as I figured that could be the only way she would know what I am. "Look, I just have a question because everybody in this damned city is self-absorbed." I explained, knowing too well that somebody must have knew where Mother was buried. The Faircloughs became notorious in New Orleans when they moved here, following the death of Thomas. Only his brother stayed, thus why Arthur remained in Portland. With that, I assumed somebody must have knew about their family plot.

For a petite girl, she held an inexplicable fire, her slit eyes daring me to proceed. "Say, I answer your question, what do I get in return?" She prompted. Smart, for sure.

"Your head on your body." I snapped in irritation. In every sense, I had learnt control over the years, but I had learnt to utilise the violent reputation of vampires and — when need be — lived up to the expectations of the being a monster.

Overhearing the threat, a dark-skinned man zoomed to the rescue of the girl, not that her stance flickered. "In my city, we keep the peace." His lips were plump and pursed, if it wasn't for the intimidation factor, I would have found him attractive. "Ethel is buried on ancestral ground, and I am willing to personally escort you. Witches don't take to kindly to our kind." He held authority, power and confidence, something that left me slightly confused. Who was this man?

I nodded, thankful. "It sounds like there's going to be an and." I noted, there tended to be a catch with people like him.

"No catch." He insisted, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You do your business, then get the hell out of my city." The man explained, a fair trade. I hadn't planned to leave a wake of chaos anyway, no matter how angry I was with the Originals. Klaus, in particular.

I smiled, it was forced and the both of us knew it. "Sure, I'm Charlotte. Charlotte Hatton." I introduced.

"Trust me, I know who you are." He said, a little too prideful for my taste. "You see, Charlotte, I'm the King of New Orleans and that means I know everybody in my city." He told me how he knew my name, to which I certainly was curious about.

"That doesn't seem all too fair, your majesty." I performed a sarcastic curtesy to appease the immodest man. "A name for a name, is it not?" I recalled, resting my hand on my chin.

"Marcel." He supplied. "Marcel Gerard."

✧࿐ ཾ✧

As promised, Marcel Gerard accompanied me to the cemetery and directed me towards my Mother's grave. He knew immediately where she was buried, confirming he knew the place like the back of his hand for he was the King. Almost cementing his position of power. Nonetheless, he was gentle yet fierce — a true leader — as he watched from afar. Despite the small distance, his presence was suffocating.

I glared lightly, my mood dim. "Personal space would be nice." I commented, urging him away from me.

"You earn it." He stated, blunt. "I don't trust easily — especially not people like you. I know the Originals, Charlotte. Excluding Finn, I could tell you that family inside and out." Marcel claimed, not that I quite understood where he was going with this. "And you may be blissfully unaware of this, but you are quite the tall tale in the supernatural community. You are the woman that thawed the ice heart of the most unpredictable Original, the most reckless. After meeting the man, I know that he would not love anybody sane." For dramatic purposes, he paused. "You got to be trouble, the Mikaelsons are a magnet for it. So, you're not to be trusted or welcomed on my grounds." There was such a sense of finality in his words that it made me shiver, but I masked it as mocking. Apparently, I had expectations to uphold.

"A King has heard of me?" I gasped, fanning myself with my right hand. "I suppose I should be terribly flattered." I cocked my head to the left, taunting him.

Inhumanly, he released a growl and charged forward, pinning me against a nearby tree. The man was stronger than me, much stronger. It didn't take Einstein to figure out he was a vampire, but it was impossible to tell by scent or appearance how old they were. Apparently, this man had decades on me, at least. I only had a small century of immortality whereas Marcel held many. Flattening the palm of my hands, I signalled for him to let me stand up again in peace, dusting off the specs of dirt from my jeans. Still on alert, like an angry bull, he remained prepared to attack again.

"I understand your caution and give you my word — God, I'm sounding like Elijah, sorry." I started, laughter leaking into my words. "Look, I swear I don't intend to stay here and have no ulterior motives. Stay within hearing distance all you want, I just want some privacy with my Mom." I explained, kinder this time. "She was an atrocious woman, I despised her and resent her to this day, but family counts no matter what to some. I honour the code of family above all too. Even when I didn't have my memories, I —" Unable to comprehend why I was confessing this to him, I halted. "It doesn't matter. Please, I just want to see her out somehow, I owe her that." I finished, my lip quivering.

Not that he would voice it, but he was touched by my words. Enough to have the decency to leave, within hearing distance, but not close enough to squash the precious moment. Before he did skirt away, he said something, something that stuck with me. 'You can choose family too.' Bizarrely, I found truth in those words as I realised my family was Damon, Elena, Jeremy, Caroline, Alaric and all the people I met along the way.

When I knelt down, his words were heavy on my mind. "I'm at a loss for words, Mom." I spluttered, the revelation of choosing family catching me off guard enough to make me forget why I came. "You hated my honesty, if I remember, but I want to be honest right now. I don't want to be here, I only came because I'm tired of running away from my problems and want to end that today." I admitted. "By starting with you and Father, I'm confronting all the ghosts of my past, the ones that never stopped haunting me. So, this is me confronting you, trying to tell you that a part of me is sorry that I never managed to make you proud like you desperately wanted, like I desperately wanted." I continued, not thinking what was leaving my lips fully. "But, I do hope to change that. Maybe you would never have wanted me to be some bloodsucking beast, but I want to turn it around. Do something that will lead to a change. No matter what, I will do good with my immortal life. Hundred years late, I vow to go down in history, starting today." I smiled down at the tombstone, hot tears streaking my face. Even in the bitter wind, a hug of warmth wrapped around my body, an overbearing sense of calm washing over me.

Minutes ticked, Marcel returned after a dangerous silence. "I can't wait to find out what your legacy will be, Charlotte." He mentioned, genuinely interested after listening in on the speech I did. "Though, I believe it is time for you to leave." Once again, he turned cold.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

PORTLAND, OREGON [1908]

"Why?" I imposed, the tense atmosphere growing unbearable at the dining table. "Why do you despise him so?" I continued in question, leaning forward with interest, knowing my parents did not hold a valid reason.

Her fork clattered against the expensive China, the noise sharp and loud like her breathing had became. "Nonsense." She muttered, the anger dominating the single word. "Nonsense, my Dear." Mother repeated, growing heated per my implication. Initially, she greatly favoured the boy and knew he could do wonders for her social status, but he was growing to be a problem for the family. "Kol Mikaelson is a wealthy, wealthy man. But, you are to be wed in a matter of months and you have such a peculiar bond with a man that is not your respectable husband. It is disgracing the family name, there's whispers of you being a——Oh, I cannot even fathom to say it." She dramatically placed the back of her hand to her forehead in distress, ashamed of the rumours that she heard in passing.

"Now, Ethel, let us not keep secrets from the wench." Father's words made me jolt back in surprise. His attitude was no shock, but he never called me such awful names nonchalantly. "People are beginning to call you an Immoral, Harlot, a Strumpet. Even I am believing such degrading titles after witnessing your casual behaviour around other men." He listed loudly, his tone harsh and low. "It is not the boy I dislike, it is the Courtesan under my very roof!" He snapped, rising from his seat at the table with a foul expression.

"Robert..." Mother warned through gritted teeth.

"She needs a firm hand, Ethel." He decided, deep in thought. "Her behaviour is the town scandal with it opening their legs for the next man that breathes in proximity." With the increasing volume of his voice, he slammed down his fist against the table.

Freely, warm tears ran a river down my reddened face. "I am not a Courtesan, a Harlot, an It." I stood my ground, swallowing the incredibly large lump in my throat. "I am Charlotte Hatton, the girl who is in love with Kol Mikaelson." I shouted. I knew who I was, I had to hold onto that for the very life of me.

Father pounced across the dining table, his large left hand clamping itself around my throat. "Never speak to me like that again, Courtesan." He hissed, his right hand being used to slap me, the noise echoing in the room and my Mother cowered. He never did this before. "I expect it to leave an impact now when I say, distance yourself from the Mikaelson."

"Father——" Stupidly, I tried to protest. The idea of never seeing him again hurt more than any slap from that monster.

"I will do worse." He threatened, his abyss eyes flickering towards the silverware that rested on the table. "Consider it not an option."

✧࿐ ཾ✧

I dropped a rose on Mother's grave — she always hated roses. They were typical and thoughtless, she would insist. And for that, I left one to prove that I knew her, at least what made her tick. There was a strange sense of satisfaction in knowing her because she seemed such a distant memory nowadays. Shaking my head, I head back to the car I compelled, to keep my promise to Marcel. Anyway, the quicker I left the city, the quicker I could forget her. With the box Arthur gave me secured on the backseat, I reversed out of the space and headed for the road. One more stop ahead.

I thought I would be ready to return by now, but I wasn't. Somehow, I was still enraged, unable to forgive Klaus. And until I could suppress my anger towards the Hybrid, I had to stay away from my new home, Mystic Falls. With nowhere in particular in mind, I googled a map of America and pointed my finger at a location, eyes squeezed shut. Just a few days, just to stall my mind and distract myself.

"Denver." I muttered to myself, snapping my fingers trying to figure out what Denver had to occupy me. There was a zoo, a theme park, the batting cages — not much. "Well, Denver, get ready for a real attraction." I grinned, prepared for my next adventure.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

A.N: Well, that is it and I'm back to editing this, which I'm excited for. And it will return to episode timelines now with Charlotte returning during 'Heart Of Darkness.' Also, little note, we saw that Charlotte had abusive episodes in her past and they were not regular but left some trauma. At the time, she didn't realise how unacceptable that was. They will never be graphic and won't appear often, just notable though.

Where would you love to travel?