live through this and you wonāt look back by royalklaroline
Caroline left Rousseauās determined to keep it together. Determined not to cry because if she did sheās afraid sheād never stop.
It wasnāt until the frantic drive down to New Orleans a few hours before that she realized that the reason Klaus dying affected her this much was because somewhere deep down she always knew that theyād end up together. Like fate.
ButĀ apparently, she was wrong.
Now it seems that fate is ripping them apart before theyād barely begun.
Sheād lost a loved one before. Quite a few times actually. But this time was different. She thought losing Stefan, her newlywed husband, on their wedding day was as bad as it could get. But Stefan was human. Part of her knew that someday he would leave her, she just hadnāt expected it so soon.
Losing Klaus was different. She always imagined that once all her loved ones were gone, sheād always have Klaus. But nowā¦
She felt like sheād lost her future. Her forever.
Klaus was the one whoād helped her embrace the joys of being immortal. Now the thought of a future without him felt empty and uncertain and scary.
In an attempt to keep from falling apart and to keep any last bit of him that she could, she turned and headed back to find the street painter theyād admired together earlier. She found him sitting in the exact spot with the now finished painting at his side while he started on a new one.
āIāll pay you however much you want for that painting,ā she inquired to the man.
āSorry miss. Itās already been sold.ā
āPlease. Iāll pay double whatever they paid. Iām begging you,ā she pleaded now on the verge of tears.
āI wish I could help you but the owner was very specific that it had to be this painting. I can paint you one like it, if you wish.ā
Defeated, Caroline thanked the man but declined. She was once again reminded of how much she regretted shredding the drawing he once gave her.
She took her time making her way back to her car before leaving New Orleans with nothing but the fading sensation of the man that promised her the world on her lips.
Two weeks had passed since she had gotten back to Mystic Falls. Two weeks since Klaus had successfully sacrificed himself for his daughter. She had hoped that returning home to her girls would help her fall back into the same routine that sheād had for the past 7 years. Sheād gone 16 years without seeing Klaus up until a few months ago, so she thought that going through life without him now would feel like normal.
She was wrong. Being back at the boarding school now made her feel like she was just going through the motions. A school filled with history of the Salvatoreās also meant a school filled with the history of the big bad Klaus Mikaelson.
Everywhere she turned, something reminded her of him. The snowflake painting hanging in the dining hall. A hummingbird outside the window. The British accent of one of the new werewolves sheād recruited to come the school.
With each day, she felt a rising panic that time was going by too fast. To her, it felt like only yesterday that he was chasing her all over town, but now she is the mother of two teenage girls. What happens when they grow up and she doesnāt? When Alaric, the girls, Elena, Bonnie, and all her other friends die?
Even after his death, she began to understand how loneliness had been his biggest enemy.
āMom, thereās a package here for you!ā Josie yelled from the front door downstairs, jolting Caroline out of her racing thoughts.
When she reached the door to find a large package, she couldnāt help but feel a sense of dĆ©jĆ vu. āThis isnātā¦ā she whispered.
But it was.
She ripped the paper away to find the painting from New Orleans. The last memory she has of him. A piece of artwork to remind her of the man who introduced her to the beauty of it.
But that wasnāt all.
Stuck to the back was an envelope. Sealed with the all too familiar Mikaelson crest and penned with the handwriting sheād know anywhere that only said āCarolineā
Her breath caught. The little voice in the back of her head said āMaybe heās still out thereā¦ā but she knew that couldnāt be the case.
With shaking hands, she opened the letter and read.
My Dearest Caroline,
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā For almost eight centuries, whenever I defeated an enemy all I would take from them were their love letters. I guess somehow, I thought stealing the love from their letters would help me to find some of my own. It never worked. Yet after a thousand years on this earth, I find that the tables have turned. Now I am the one writing the letter with death waiting on my doorstep.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā When you came into my life, I was a shell. Fueled by greed and anger with no care for life other than my own. Until I met you. A mere eighteen years old and you spoke to me with more honesty and strength than Iād experienced in centuries. You never cowered in fear of my darkness because your light turned it to shadows.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I know that I once told you that I intended to be your last love, alas fate had other plans for us. But know this. I always intended for you to be my last as well. I find comfort knowing that you were. And you being here for me today, just as you have been for the past few months, means the more than you could ever know. Your presence somehow makes everything I do easier and harder in equal measure.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā My biggest regret is that I never got the chance to show you the world like I told you I would someday. Rome. Paris. Tokyo. But I keep my promises. Included in this envelope are four tickets to London Heathrow. For you, Josie, Lizzie, and, if I may add, Hope. Caroline, I beg that you be the one to bring her to these places. Though I know my family could very well take her, Iād like her to experience it with you. And donāt worry about hotels or any other requirements of the sort, itās all been taken care of my love.
Also attached, I would like to include a list of a few tips for your travels abroad.
Thereās a small pub in Blackfriars called Williamsonās Tavern where Elijah and I lost quite a bit of money once while gambling after a few pints. Still Iād do it all again. Though I hear theyāve cleaned up the place and itās more family appropriate now.
Located on a far wall on the second floor of the Hermitage in St. Petersburg youāll find a landscape I did of the view outside our home in southern Italy in 1475 titled āLandscape of Fallen Leavesā
In Berlin, look up a man named Alexander SchĆ¼tze near the East Side Gallery. Tell him I sent you and Iām sure he will show you the best of the best. He owes me a favor.
San Miniato al Monte has one of the best views in Florence. Though I did sire one of the nuns for fun, so if you meet a woman named Silvia tell her that I finally got what I deserved.
The only way to explore Rome is on a Vespa.
The best flavor of gelato is pistachio. Trust me.
At the Louvre, the painting across from the Mona Lisa titled āThe Wedding Feast at Canaā is an incredible piece by an old friend of mine Paolo Caliari. I visited him often as he was painting it.
Be sure to rent a bike to ride around Luxembourg Gardens.
When at Versailles, go as deep into the gardens that you can. Spend the whole day if you must. Get lost. Thatās the fun part, love.
Lastly, once back in London visit the Tate Britain and go find the painting entitled āThe Hummingbird.ā Ā I think you may find it quite amusing.
There are a million more things I would have liked to show you but I donāt have enough time left to write them all down. So, Iāll leave the exploring to you in hopes that you find everything that I did and more.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā If you were anyone else, Iād end this by saying I wish to see you again someday, somewhere, somehow in whatever there is after all this. But alas, I wonāt. More than anything I want you to live your life to the fullest. I hope you have a thousand more birthdays and that you get everything you ever wanted out of life. I pray that my daughter learns as much from you as she ever learned from me. Please look after her as you always did for me. May your lifespan far outnumber mine and that they tell great stories of the mythical Caroline Forbes who loved with her whole heart to everyone she encountered, even those who did not deserve it. Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Forever yours,
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Klaus Mikaelson
She spent that summer exploring all that Europe had to offer. Sheād brought her girls and Hope with her just as Klaus had wanted. They had ticked off numbers 1 through 9 on Klausās list and added much more to it over the past few months. On their last day in back in London where they started their trip, they were set to finally visit the Tate and knock off the last sight on the list.
She wasnāt sure if she was ready to finish the list and head back home. Being in Europe had made her feel closer to him in a way that she didnāt know was possible and he wasnāt even here.
Over the past couple of months, she had become quite an art enthusiast. She thought heād be proud. She finally understood how art had this ability to transport the viewer somewhere else and fill them with emotion with just a glance. Now she knew thatās why he loved art so much. It was his escape.
Theyād been exploring for just over an hour, hoping to stumble upon āThe Hummingbirdā on their own. The looking was always the fun part.
āOh my God. Mom. Over here,ā she heard Lizzie say from around the corner.
Sheād expected just some picture of a hummingbird. She should have known better.
Wide eyed, she gasped because there, in the middle of the Tate, was her.
Blonde hair. Blue dress. It was the night of the Mikaelson Ball. The portrait of her wasnāt looking at the viewer. She looked calm, collected, and confident. Surrounded by other party goers that blurred in the background. She was the only focus.
It was then that everything clicked into place for Caroline. Sheād finally gotten the thing that sheād always wanted.Ā
She was finallyĀ the one.
The one for Klaus.
Now that Klaus was gone, she was surprised that she didnāt feel sad at this revelation. She felt thankful. Thankful to have known him and that heād given her everything sheād ever wanted. Culture. Art. Beauty. The world. Heād given her the world. But most of all, she felt thankful that he was intelligent enough to know that she loved him too. Even if she never had the guts to say it to him aloud. He had to of known.
She walked over and read the description.
The Hummingbird (2011) by Niklaus Mikaelson
āThis portrait is for a woman much like a hummingbird. Small and beautiful yet fierce. Ā She showed me how satisfying life can be every day with her. Iāll wait for her to fly back to me someday. However long it takes.ā
I'm in tears. So beautifully written.
