little mikaelson ⚜️ the originals

10

Klaus smiled as Darla played with her abundance of toys in her crib, chewing on one and looking up in wonder.

She was nine months old now, and was the happiest baby of all time. She had her uncle Elijah to always read to her, her aunt Rebekah always spoiling her with new outfits and toys, and her loving father who was always there for her in her hour of need.

But there was one thing Darla hated more than anything so far. Bath time.

"Come on, love," Klaus smiled softly, picking her up. "Let's go."

Darla squealed in delight as her father ticked her tummy lightly while he carried her down the stairs, but it was short lived when she saw her baby bathtub. Then she started to cry.

It wasn't that there was anything to hate about the bath itself, her family had already thought of that. They always made sure that the water was warm, that the soap wasn't harming her skin in any way, along with everything else, but they couldn't find anything quite wrong with it. Eventually they just came to the conclusion that she just hated taking baths.

"I know, love, I know." Klaus sighed. "But you have to take a bath, Darla. We wouldn't want a smelly baby around here, would we?"

And despite her father's happy tone, she didn't ease up. She just kept crying.

Klaus just sighed and struggled to get her ready for her bath, silently wishing that someone else would bear this burden. But he promised her and himself that he would be the loving and caring father, and that he would always take care of her. And sometimes, fathers have to deal with their daughters screaming and wailing because of a ten minute bath.

"Come on, Dar," he pleaded quietly, pouring water over her head. "Can you please stop crying? For daddy?"

And for once in all of Darla Mikaelson's nine months on the earth, she actually stopped crying. All of her father's begging finally worked ― and she fell silent.

For a moment Klaus thought there was something wrong. Like there was something behind him, or that she was having a mini-baby stroke or that she was even using her baby bathtub as a toilet. But after a while, he realized that there was nothing wrong at all. She was just... silent.
So with a smile, Klaus praised her and continued with the bath, blowing bubbles with her and washing her up, laughing and giggling with her. Everything was perfect.

Then she got soap in her eye.

"Oh, little love, it's quite alright," Klaus sighed, creasing his brow in worry. "It's just a little soap in the eye, Darla, it's not that big of a― Damn that burns!"

Somehow, in the midst of her sobbing and flailing, she had managed to get soap in his eye as well. And as a man who has been stabbed, staked, cut, poisoned, whipped, chained, tortured, bewitched, amongst many other painful experiences, he could confidently state that getting shampoo in his eye was one of the worst things that had ever happened to him.

"Men." Rebekah scoffed, waltzing into the room and going over to Darla, helping her get the soap out of her beautiful brown eyes. "Such babies."

"Not to sound like a drama queen, sister, but I am 95% sure that shit you insisted I wash my daughter with is acid." Klaus said with a hiss, aiding his eye.

"Nik, you invented the term 'drama queen'." Bekah teased.

"Just as you invented the term 'bitch'?"

"Brother, sister!" Elijah said, walking into the room upon hearing their arguments. "I implore you to hold off the swearing around the baby. I would prefer for her to not use that type of language at such a young age, and― shit!"

Just as Darla had done mere seconds before, she had flung the soap-filled water up and straight into her uncle's eye, causing her father and auntie to burst into a fit of laughter.

"Might want to practice what you preach, brother," Klaus laughed, picking Darla up and wrapping her in a soft towel. "Wouldn't want her cursing anytime soon, would we?"

And if the previous situation wasn't already ironic enough, Darla decided to speak up and have her time to shine.

"Shit!"