Author’s Note: This story takes place after Season 3 Episode 9 of The Originals.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Contains non-consensual spanking of adults.
“No, dear sister, you did not miss Christmas.” With a smile Elijah held out his hand to help Rebekah out of the box. She took it gratefully, and smiled in thanks as he pulled her out and then dragged closer the one man he had not yet killed.
“Feed. You will need your strength.”
With a nod, she sank her vampire fangs into the man’s neck, and bled him dry. Wiping the traces of blood from her mouth, she turned to her older brother with a smile.
“You think of everything. So, what now?” She asked cheerily. “Home for the holidays?”
“Of course. But first, we have a small matter to settle.” Elijah’s smile suddenly seemed ominous rather than welcoming. Nervously, Rebekah took a step backwards.
“Of course, I forgot to thank you for saving me…again.” She smiled with a show of bravado. “That was very…”
Elijah cut her off. “That was not what I meant, as you are well aware. We need to discuss your failure to follow up on your promise to return home immediately… I believe my exact words were ‘no detours’.” He regarded her sternly. “It would seem we have a different definition of detours.”
“But, Lijah,” she pouted prettily, using every skill at her command, “I didn’t really promise. All I did was to say “fine”, which really didn’t mean that I…”
He cut her off again. “Rebekah, do you really wish to dig yourself deeper into this hole? Because if so, by all means keep talking.”
Knowing full well what he meant, Rebekah closed her mouth, biting her lip as she did so, and regarded her irate older brother warily.
“Much better. Now, as we have both agreed,” he paused briefly, watching her intently and seeing her nod slightly he nodded in response, “that you deliberately refused to honor your word and return home as requested…”
Unable to remain quiet, this time she interrupted him. “Requested! That was one of your typical orders! The great Elijah Mikaelson always knows best, and has every right to command obedience from all us lesser beings!” She sniped sarcastically.
Elijah narrowed his eyes and sighed. “So, it appears we will be having this discussion in a more direct form.” Using his vampire speed, he swept her up and crossed the warehouse to where a convenient toolbox lay. Propping one foot up on the box, he tipped her across his knee and held her firmly in place.
In this awkward position, Rebekah’s feet kicked helplessly several inches above the floor, and her flailing hands couldn’t reach anything solid either, so she had to content herself with grabbing his leg and holding on for dear life.
“Elijah!” She shrieked. “Let me go!”
“Certainly.” He responded with infuriating calmness. “As soon as I have imparted the wisdom of following my REQUESTS,” he emphasized the word with a hard slap to her nicely presented rear “and keeping your promises…whether directly stated or implied!” Another firm whack drew a sharp intake of breath from her.
“Elijah, I am not a child anymore! This is ridiculous!” She protested, still kicking futilely.
“Perhaps, but you certainly acted like one in this particular instance.” He began peppering her bottom with smacks hard enough to take her breath away. “And due to your failure to cooperate with my efforts to keep you safe,” at this point he aimed the ensuing slaps at her thighs, “you ended up daggered in a box!” His unruffled composure broke slightly at this point, with a renewal of the fear that had engulfed him upon realizing that his beloved baby sister had been effectively kidnapped and nearly killed by Aurora. He struggled to control his temper, not wishing to do more damage than necessary, but it was indeed a struggle. All his efforts to keep his family safe, to keep them together and out of harm’s way, and this stubborn little sister had nearly met her end by not listening to him. Elijah transferred his attention to her sit spots, and allowed himself a slight increase in force. Rebekah could not be allowed to put herself in such danger again, no matter what her promise to Kol.
Within seconds, Rebekah was reduced to tears. Elijah’s anger blazed forth in every stroke from his hard hand, despite his efforts to moderate it. And that, more than the physical pain of the spanking, was what crumbled her defenses.
“All right! ‘Lijah, I’m sorry! I should have listened to you and gone home!” She admitted, her struggles abating slightly. He almost smiled, knowing that this repentance was only partly genuine, and schooled himself back to severity again.
“I’m sure you ARE sorry, now that you’re over my knee. Now let us see if I can persuade you to remember just how sorry you are should a similar situation arise in the future.” He continued landing forceful smacks on her bottom until her slight tears turned to genuine sobs and her kicking subsided into limp acquiescence. As soon as he felt her sincerely submit to him, he stopped, and began rubbing gentle circles on her back.
Rebekah sobbed helplessly for a few minutes. It had been a very long time since Elijah had been so harsh with her…in fact, the last time had been many centuries ago over a similar situation. When her tears eased somewhat, he set her back on her feet and drew her unresisting into his arms. Cradling her head against his shoulder, he buried his face in her hair, finally allowing the pure relief at her safety to supersede his fear and anger.
“All right, little one, all over now.” He whispered softly. “You are safe, here with me, and that is all that matters.” He paused. “You do remember that I only resort to this type of correction out of love?”
She nodded against his chest, although she wasn’t ready to meet his eyes yet. There had never been any doubt of Elijah’s feelings for his siblings, and if he chose to express them in a rather archaic, patriarchal manner…well, she could live with that. As long as it ended like this, safe and secure in his arms, always and forever.
An imperious knock on her bedroom door interrupted Freya’s preparations for the evening. She pulled it open impatiently to see Elijah, looking even more serious than usual. “May I come in?” He asked politely, and then proceeded to do so without bothering to wait for permission. Closing the door quietly behind him, he turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing her with a stern gaze.
“You do realize, my dear sister, that as the eldest living male in our family, that makes me somewhat responsible for the rest of you.”
“Perhaps if we were still in the 10th century that philosophy would make some sense, but as at least some of us have moved on into the 21st, I fail to see the relevance.” Freya held her head high, refusing to be intimidated by her brother. She was still a bit annoyed that Elijah’s knock had interrupted her dressing for the festive Christmas Eve they were all so looking forward to. Rebekah had been returned unharmed, and the sisters’ reunion had been a joyous one. Freya adored the little sister she had only recently come to know, and was still feeling terribly guilty at having failed to keep her safe from the witch, and ultimately from Aurora. So she was inclined to be a little snippy in response to Elijah’s standard self-righteous attitude.
Elijah’s eyes narrowed marginally, and he raised both hands to stare briefly at his cufflinks, twisting one neatly back into place, while he made an effort to control his temper.
“The relevance lies in my constantly thwarted attempts to keep all of you alive and in one piece.” His eyes rose to meet hers, and she involuntarily took a step back at the barely concealed anger in them. “A task which becomes nearly impossible when you all seem to take such delight in completely ignoring my wishes and racing off half-cocked to get yourselves into yet another dreary mess, from which I am forced to rescue you.”
“And just when were you forced to rescue me, brother?” Freya recovered herself enough to manage a sarcastic tone. “I don’t recall that particular situation…” It took all her resolve to retain her composure as Elijah took a step forward, seizing her upper arm and staring intently into her eyes, just inches away.
“I was referring to the recent situation with Rebekah, as you are well aware. She and I have already discussed her failure to obey me and return home promptly, and now I intend to have a similar discussion with you. I told you to ensure that she returned home safely. Instead of following my very reasonable instructions, you chose to defer to her ill-conceived plan to obtain the spell that would bring back Kol, and because of that she was nearly lost to us.” His voice was steely, as was the grip on her arm.
Freya’s gut twisted. She was already feeling guilty about her part in the disastrous affair, and Elijah’s blunt assessment cut to the core. Alright, she had made a mistake. But didn’t he realize she would do anything…ANYTHING…to keep her new-found family safe? For centuries she had wanted nothing more than to be part of a family. And now that she had found them, and fought to secure her place among them, she would die rather than lose any one of them. Although she had to admit there were moments when she felt the world might be better off without Klaus…but she was pretty sure the rest of his siblings had those moments as well.
She fought to control her rioting emotions. While Rebekah had assured her she had no blame for the way things had turned out, Elijah was clearly furious. Which made sense. His beloved little sister had been endangered, nearly lost for good, and it was at least partly her fault. In spite of her best efforts, tears welled up in her eyes. She turned her head and tried to pull away, and to her surprise he let her go. She summoned up her strength.
“Well, perhaps it’s time for me to go then, since I obviously am doing nothing but harm here.” She was trying for sarcasm, and was dismayed to find that she sounded rather pitiful instead.
“Freya.” Elijah’s voice softened as he perceived the extent of her distress. “The only place you are going is over my knee. Do you really think I…or any of us for that matter…would want you to leave because of this?”
She looked up at him then, startled. “What? Over…wait, you don’t want…”
Elijah almost smiled; apparently he had taken her by surprise to the point where she was having trouble forming a coherent sentence. Perhaps a more direct approach was called for.
“Freya, you are my sister, just as much as Rebekah is my sister. I will love and care for you as I love and care for her. And in spite of the myriad issues which come between the various members of our completely dysfunctional family, none of us will ever abandon you. It is far too late to escape our clutches now.” He added with a rueful smile, “Always and forever. Not the easiest pledge in the world, but then the Mikaelsons have never done ‘easy’.” He watched her closely, and saw the dawning acceptance in her eyes.
“Now, if you have relinquished the absurd idea that you might be required to leave, we will discuss your failure to follow my instructions.” He strode purposefully across the room and pulled out the old-fashioned desk chair.
The initial part of his prior statement popped back into her head, and instinctively she backed away, shaking her head.
“Elijah, if you will recall, this is the 21st century. I understand that you are angry with me, but such a Neanderthal approach is ludicrous. I can’t believe you would stoop to physical violence.”
“I have spent the last several centuries absolutely wallowing in physical violence, so I fail to see why you would be surprised at this.” He seated himself on the chair and beckoned imperiously.
“Over here, now. Chop chop; we have a family celebration to attend and it would be rude to be late.”
Freya stared at him, open-mouthed, and then shook her head with what was almost a laugh. “You must be joking. If you think I am going to…” She didn’t get to finish her thought, as he used his vampire speed to stand up, cross the room, carry her bodily back and re-seat himself with her over his lap in the space of a heartbeat.
“I most assuredly am not joking. I expect my family to listen to me, and on the rare occasions when I issue a direct order, to follow it promptly and completely. As in this instance, failure to do so nearly always leads directly to disaster, and we already have more than enough disasters to deal with. You may disagree, you may argue, you may even refuse to cooperate with my requests, but rest assured if you do so there will be consequences. Consequences which you will find most unpleasant.” So saying he raised his right hand and brought it down sharply on her backside.
Freya gave an involuntary and very undignified yelp. And then started to kick, as his hand continued to descend rapidly and forcefully. Her body stiffened, her right fist clenched…and Elijah stopped, hand still hovering high in the air.
“Use your witchcraft at your peril,” he warned. “This punishment is both justified and deserved, and it comes as the price of being part of a family.” He paused a moment to let her consider. “Rebekah could have been lost; you know that. And it was at least partially due to your failure to follow my instructions. If you think I will allow you to retain the guilt and shame you obviously feel over this, you are sadly mistaken. This is not because of what happened to Rebekah, Freya. This is for you.”
Slowly her fist opened, her body slackened and her head dropped. Elijah gave a satisfied nod, and resumed his task. His hand crashed down hard and fast, landing in random places at a painfully steady pace. When he felt the onset of tears, he shifted slightly, raising her to a position where he could more easily reach the tenderest spots.
“Had you done as I asked,” his relentless hand slapped down on the tops of her thighs, “you would not be in this position now.”
She briefly thought that the change in strike zone would bring some relief to her already blazing backside. She was wrong.
The assault on her thighs continued to the point where she could no longer control herself, throwing back a hand to try blocking him. He easily seized it and pinned it to the small of her back, and returned his attention to her sit spots. “Tsk, tsk. Not allowed, sister. That will cost you some extra.”
She had not thought it possible for this horrid experience to get any worse, but it did. Elijah held her firmly in place with one hand while using the other one to slip his belt from the loops. Keeping in mind that this was most likely her first time over anyone’s lap, he doubled the leather and delivered exactly three fairly light strokes. Obviously not agreeing with his definition of ‘light’, Freya burst into noisy sobs.
Elijah let the belt fall to the floor, and released the hand he had been holding, instead rubbing gentle circles on her back. When she finally got herself a bit under control, although the tears were still falling, she realized that he was humming softly, wordlessly, soothingly. With a final gulp and sniffle, she moved a little and he helped her up.
She was expecting him to let go, to rise and make some final comment before leaving. Instead he stayed where he was, pulling her back down gently to settle her sore bottom against his thighs. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close against his chest, cradling her head in one hand and continuing the soft humming sounds. Exhausted, confused, emotionally drained, Freya leaned limply against him, slid her fingers under his jacket to twine themselves in his shirt, and sniffled.
Elijah shifted enough to pull the pocket handkerchief from his vest and offer it to her. She accepted gratefully, although it was already too late to save his suit coat, which was pretty well soaked with tears. Finally feeling recovered enough to stand, Freya looked at him with something between wariness and wonder, and he stood up, smiling at her. He gave her a final hug and a kiss on top of her head.
“I believe that makes it official, sister. You are now irrefutably a full-fledged member of the Mikaelson clan.” He picked up the discarded belt and turned towards the door.
Freya wrinkled her brow. “You don’t mean to say you’ve done this to…?”
Elijah paused with his hand on the doorknob, turned back and winked. “Ask them. If you dare.” Then he was gone.
Freya stood staring after him, tentatively rubbing her very sore bottom. She shook her head. Maybe she would ask them…after another few centuries.
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