This Manip was created by me along with some Drabble for Klaroline Bingo @klaroline-events
Prompt: “Original! Caroline”
x-X-x
“HAUNTED” - AU Drabble with Original Caroline
Caroline was the only outsider apart from his siblings who had been turned by his mother’s spell. He supposed that’s one thing he could be thankful to his mother for in the circumstances, the fact that she might have shown a semblance of acceptance that Caroline was his soulmate.
Being around Caroline had always felt magnetic – like there were unseen forces that wanted them to be closer, the feeling of being apart leaving a pull that they needed to give in to. Perhaps it was his animal instinct (from when he’d found out that he had inherited the wolf gene from his biological father) that simply knew who his mate was. He was sure that he would not be able to live without her.
Until the day she had been taken from him and had succumbed to death by a white oak stake in the hands of a young, reckless wolf. Klaus had gone on a killing spree upon learning of her death, ripping out the hearts of the members of the pack responsible one by one until he came upon the wolf who had done the deed himself. Just as he was about to rip his head off, he heard it.
Her voice. Calling his name.
His surprise caused his grip to loosen, making the wolf try to make his escape but Klaus had come to his senses by then. Once more as his hands tightened around the wolf’s neck, there it was again.
Nik, don’t do it.
He stilled but didn’t let go this time. His heart still raw with grief from her loss, he looked up from the man he was ready to kill and nearly choked.
There stood Caroline before him. On noticing her, she smiled at him sadly.
Hello, Nik.
“Caroline?”
Just let him go, Nik.
“He killed you.”
Trust me, it’s not worth it.
For some inexplicable reason, he obeyed her. He held the wolf in a choke hold, warning him that if he ever saw him or anyone from his pack in these parts again, he wouldn’t be so merciful.
The wolf scurried off, eager to get as far away from Klaus as possible. He wondered how he was still breathing right now and almost felt bad for Klaus.
Poor monster was so broken he was talking to himself.
Vengeance is defined as punishment or retribution for a wrong committed against another. A single curse could derail and weaken the most powerful being in the world. A single massacre could change the entire world in one go; but it could centuries to execute the perfect vengeance.
A/N: This is an OLD story of mine from like two years ago. I find the writing a bit..rough but I figured, what the hell. Post it anyway.
Chapter One:
Mystic Falls
April 2010
Damon Salvator strutted across the parking lot of the Mystic Falls high school. Cars were parked in spaces and shouts could be heard echoing from inside the gym. Sports. Even in a town littered with the supernatural, pastimes such as high school sports were still cultivated as a religion. In the century that Damon had been alive, it made him smirk that such things had not changed. However, what has changed was the fact that Katherine fucking Pierce was now locked in the tomb that Damon once sought to free her from.
Irony really could be a bitch.
Damon couldn't lie and say that he wasn't enjoying these turn of events. He despised that bitch. Spending a hundred and forty-six years in love with her just to learn that she wasn't in that tomb at all, really felt like a gut punch. The moment he realized that she was gone and he had been lied to for the entirety of his vampiric existence was hard to swallow. Damon was proud and Katherine wounded that pride, so now she was stuck in that tomb and he had the mind to let her rot down there for the rest of her eternity.
What was it exactly that Anna had said? That Katherine had known exactly where he was the entire time? Did she know that where he was in the fifties? Did she know that he was imprisoned at Whitmore? A wave of fresh hot anger shot through him. If he wouldn't be trapped inside the tomb alongside her, Damon had the mind to spend the rest of the time torturing her just like he had been during those times. He might have forgiven her lies, if she had strolled in and let him out of that cell. Maybe he could have even saved Enzo. Maybe things would have been different.
“I must say, that was really impressive.” Damon paused and turned. A tall woman leaned against a dark Ford Escape with her arms crossed. She had short brown hair that flared out at her chin and light hazel eyes. She wore a reddish brown leather jacket with tight jeans and boots that went up to her knees. Damon couldn't help but admit that she was attractive despite the fact that she was clearly a vampire; and a very old one. Older than him and older than Katherine; so old that Damon didn't even sense her at first. “Imprisoning Katerina Petrova in the tomb.”
“I don't know what your talking about.” If Damon hadn't been on his guard before, he was now. Only few people called Katherine by her given name and those who did, were around when she was first turned. He learned of it briefly when he was human and called her that once-it didn't end well for him. She left him and went straight to his brother's bed. She hated that name and therefore, Damon never called her it again. However, if this vampire would willing call Katherine by her given name, then this vampire was far more dangerous than the one he just imprisoned. “And who are you?”
“Rose-Marie, but my friends call me Rose.”
“Well Rose-”
“We're not friends.” Rose cut him off with a smile. She pushed off the Ford Escape and strolled over to him slowly. Cheers echoed in the background as one of the teams scored something, causing the crowd to go wild. Rose stood in front of him directly and his first thought was to attack; but he knew he couldn't win. Perhaps if Stefan was there, the two of them together could take her down but the closer she got, he could feel the age vibrating off of her. That was the thing with vampires, the young ones could always tell who their elders were. “I'm here to offer a warning. He is coming and it would be best if you stayed out of his way. He may even give you a gold star if you leave the first doppelganger in the tomb.”
Suddenly Damon felt himself panic. Elena. His brother's girl. The girl who he couldn't help but feel something for. She was everything he wished Katherine had been and wanted her to be. However, just like the rotting bitch, Elena preferred his perfect saint of a brother. He wondered if Elena would like Stefan if she knew what he was really like when he lost control. Damon didn't know what answer he wanted because neither would be good for him. Either way, he wanted nothing to happen to her. He wanted Elena alive.
“Who is coming?”
“Klaus.” Rose flashed off before Damon could ask who in the hell was Klaus. He stood there completely frozen, unsure exactly what he should do. All he knew was that he was going to have to discover who Klaus was and what he could possibly want with Katherine; and how that related to Elena.
He didn't hear where Rose flashed off to; not over the screams of the crowd. He didn't see her enter the gym or weave through the crowd and leave at the other side of the building. It wasn't until she reached the town square that she slowed to a human pace. She closed her eyes and came to a standstill. It was on a whim that Trever wanted to come here. She was hesitant because it was Klaus's birth place; but she would never second guess Trever again. After five hundred years of running, it was about to end. Rose reached into her bag, pulled out her cellphone and dialed one of her contacts. Perhaps one day soon she would be able to see her friend again.
*
New Orleans
April 2010
Klaus stood over the balcony watching the endless parade flow past. Some celebration that Klaus didn't care enough to participate in. Once upon a time he relished in the flow and life that always was present in the city; his city. He built this town from the ground up and he built it for her. After shoving the white oak stake into the heart of his father, they were free. They no longer had to run and they decided to settle. She always wanted a home so he built her a city.
She loved Paris; so he ensured that the french were prevalent here. She loved color and life and exotic foods. She loved magic and the raw darkness of it. This was everything she could have ever wanted. Klaus would have laid the world at her feet if she had asked. She never did, only ever wanting him but he always knew that he could never be enough for her. And now he was alone. Living nothing more than a shadow of a life for the last one hundred and forty six years.
Klaus continued to listen to the cheering of the party goers below. He could smell the alcohol and the spices from the creole dishes. This had been his home and now he only came back once a year; except that time in the fifties and sixties where he secluded himself from the world. This was a time that he cherished and would lavish the most important person of his existence with gifts and his affections. An anniversary of when he became hers. Now, he came to mourn her. To allow that hallow hole in his chest to take center. He allowed himself to fully feel it.
He gripped the railing of the balcony that overlooked the street until his knuckles turned white. His eyes closed and he breathed deeply. He let the pain flow through him and he tried to imagine her smile; how she laughed and the very first moment he laid eyes upon her-over a thousand years ago.
That memory burned inside of him.
“This isn't healthy.” Klaus turned and saw the figure of his protégé leaning against the doorway. His arms were crossed and his shoulder rested upon the wood. Normally, vampires congregated to his home for the lavish and fantastic parties he threw. But the supernatural community knew by now that this week, the manor was draped in black and no one was to enter. “The whole of New Orleans knows why you're here. Some of them are afraid that you are going to go off the deep end like you did last year.”
“Marcel, those witches-”
“Did nothing more than simply be witches.” Marcel argued. “They practiced magic. Now, you know I have that rule that witches cannot practice magic without my permission. They did wrong but to massacre their entire coven?”
“It wouldn't be the first time I annihilated an entire coven.”
“I know. I was there in 1914. I helped you and watched you dagger Kol when he was collecting those dark objects.” Marcel replied but shook his head. “Look, you're more than welcome here. You know that. This is your city. You built it and I will keep it standing until you are able to take the keys back. But know this, I don't do it for you Klaus. You are not the only one who misses her.” Klaus flashed to him and gripped his throat.
“Do not for one second compare your pain to mine. She was my reason for breathing. If there wasn't a mere chance that I knew that she could come back to me, I would have ended my life a century ago.” He threw Marcel backwards and the vampire hit the wall. A dent was formed in the brick and the dark vampire looked up at the man who raised him.
“She was my mother. She made me into the man I am today. Don't forget that.” Marcel fired back. Klaus was all but ready to attack him again but his phone buzzed. He saw his sister's name flash on the screen and he scowled. She knew not to call him here. She knew that he was unreachable during this time. He ignored it; but before he could continue his assault on Marcel, she called right back. Klaus felt his temper flare but he pressed the answer button.
“What Freya?” He hissed into the receiver with clenched teeth.
“They found her. Mystic Falls.”
“What?”
“Mystic Falls. I'm in New York. I'll be there tomorrow around mid day.”
“Are you certain?”
“A contact called me. I'm positive. She is there.”
“Who was it?”
“Rose-Marie.”
“I gather she wants her freedom then?”
“And that vampire friend of her's.”
“I see.” If this was real, if this was finally happening, Rose could have whatever she desired. He would gift that pathetic friend of hers an entire country if she wished if it brought her back to him. He had been searching for over a century for this and here it was, all but being handed to him; and so close to their anniversary. “If she is really there, tell Rose-Marie that she is free. Call me when you arrive, I'll be there shortly.”
“Oh and Klaus. Katerina is buried in a tomb beneath the town.” Klaus smiled and ended the calls and Marcel was on him with wide eyes. With his vampire hearing, he heard everything. He was searching Klaus's face for any sign of breaking. Marcel wanted nothing more than to break this curse but he wasn't sure if this would break Klaus. If this didn't work, Marcel wasn't sure if Klaus would keep his humanity on this time. Klaus was dangerous but without his humanity, Marcel wasn't sure if New Orleans, Mystic Falls and the world as a whole would be left standing.
“They found her?”
“Yes.” Klaus wasn't looking at him but Marcel could see the wheels turning in his head. “I'm leaving at first light for Mystic Falls. I'll meet Freya there. Would you make arrangements and bring the coffins?” Marcel nodded. “Leave the daggers in tact if you would. At least for right now.” Marcel nodded but in the back of his mind, he was shocked. He never thought that Klaus would consider ever removing those daggers for all of eternity.
“Well, Rebekah and I are still on the outs so that one is safe and Kol hate me so trust me when I say that one will stay put.” Marcel joked and Klaus smirked at him. It was the first smirk that Marcel has seen since that fateful night. Klaus didn't say anything but instead flashed to the chamber he used when he was in residence. The master suite still remained untouched.
*
Mystic Falls
April 2010
Elena and Bonnie stumbled through the woods towards the old Fell Church. Bonnie trailed behind Elena, not completely sure that this was a wise idea but Elena was determined. She wanted to speak with Katherine and no matter how much Bonnie tried to convince her otherwise, she wouldn't change her mind. Once they reached the edge of the tomb, Elena looked towards Bonnie who nodded and magically maneuvered her into the tomb.
When Elena touched down on the bottom, she put the black duffle back that she had been carrying on the ground and called out for the vampire. Slowly, she could hear something rustling and moving towards her. It sounded like a horror movie and that moment when she felt as though she should run but she stood her ground. Soon enough, the pale and boney figure of Katherine appeared at the entrance of the tomb.
“Hello Elena.” Her voice was raspy and horse. It sounded as though she had not spoken for days. “You come to watch me wither away?” Elena couldn't look away from her. It was as though she was looking into a mirror. They were identical but it was as though she was looking into a mirror and hating what she saw. Looking at Katherine made her feel a sense of self loathing Elena only felt when she thought of her parents. “Stefan know you're here?”
“I brought you some things.”
“You can't bribe me. What is it that you want?” Elena pulled out a blanket and a pillow and tossed them into the tomb. Katherine didn't even look at them but kept her gaze on her doppelganger.
“I want you tell me about Klaus and what he could possibly want with me.” This surprised Katherine and for the first time since entering that tomb, she seemed amused. Elena pulled a thermos out of the black bag and sat it down onto the ground. Katherine could smell the blood but refused to move or break. She would not grovel for a drop of blood. She was Katherine Pierce. She was stronger than that.
“You've been busy.”
“I also brought you this.” It was a thick leather bound book and suddenly Katherine forgot about the thermos sitting on the cave floor. “Its your family history. It says in here that the family line ended with you. Obviously that is not true.”
“You think that if you brought me some family keepsake that I'd open up?” Elena reached down and cracked open the thermos full of blood. Katherine's instinct took over and she lunged forward, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier separating her from Elena. Elena poured a tiny bit of blood into the cup and pushed it towards Katherine, who greedily took the cup and drank.
“More blood? Start talking.”
“You have the Petrova fire.” Elena said nothing. “It is a long story. Klaus and I. Goes all the way back to 1492 in England after I left Bulgaria....or I was thrown out.” Katherine took another sip of blood and Elena tossed her a questioning look. “I had a child out of wedlock. My family, your ancestors disowned me. My baby, my daughter was given away.”
Elena wanted to say that she was sorry but found that she couldn't say anything at all. She didn't want to feel sorry for Katherine. She wasn't willing to show pity for the woman who tormented both Stefan and Damon for almost a century and a half. “I caught the eye of a nobleman named Klaus. I was taken with him at first until I learned what he was and what he wanted from me. Then I ran like hell.”
“What did he want?”
“Klaus is one of the first seven vampires to walk this earth. We are all descended from one of those vampires, but Klaus was more. He had the werewolf gene that was locked away for centuries. The blood of the doppelganger unlocked that curse. He wanted to sacrifice me on an alter to lift his curse.” Elena froze. “So I ran. I killed myself, became a vampire and infuriated him. He then massacred my entire family in revenge.”
“Is that what he wants with me? To drain my blood.”
“No. He killed one of my decedents, another doppelganger, in 1702. The same night she gave birth to her son. Klaus was always one for a backup plan and it was best to keep the Petrova line alive. His wolf side has been unlocked for centuries and then he killed his father shortly after that.” She gave a merciless laugh. In truth, Katherine never cared for her descendants and cared even less for the one standing in front of her. They only made her bitter. It proved that her daughter had a full life that she was never apart of. “He is coming here because another curse haunts him now. He wants back what I took from him.”
“What did you take?” Elena asked in a whisper. Confusion filled her. There was so much she didn't know and so many questions she wished to ask.
“He massacred my entire family because I disobeyed him. He took them from me so I took the one person that meant everything to him.” Katherine smirked and Elena could tell that Katherine thought this was her one greatest achievement. “Did you ever ask yourself why I was in Mystic Falls in 1864? It wasn't because of Damon and Stefan. They were nothing more than a distraction.”
“Katherine, what did you do?”
“I took his wife.”
“What?”
“I took Caroline.”
*
England
April, 1492
The garden only bloomed at night. The flowers that were all closed during the day and it made many of the servants wonder why Lady Caroline wanted the flowers that could only be seen by the moon. It was a request she made of her husband and Klaus was nothing more than obliging to Caroline's whims. Truth was that Caroline cared deeply for those she deemed worthy enough, and Rose was one of her friends that she held close.
Early in their friendship, Rose had stated that she missed seeing the flowers bloom. Since Rose became someone she cared for, but didn't trust enough to give a daylight ring too, she asked Klaus to have an entire garden planted with just flowers that bloomed at night. The two strolled with linked arms as the moon was high in the sky. It was just over a week away before the full moon and Caroline could could stop pretending.
“How long will the doppelganger be your guest?” Rose asked and she could see Caroline scowl. She hated the doppelganger and Rose knew that it wasn't just because of the girl herself. Truthfully, Caroline hadn't actually met her in person yet. She was less than pleased when Klaus suggested that Katerina stay at their home. She was was even less pleased when Klaus told her they shouldn't flaunt their marriage. The row that followed had been one of their worst in the five hundred years they had been married, only surpassed by the fight of epic proportions they had when they turned the very first vampires only a few years after they were turned themselves. There was so much more to the story of the doppelganger and the Mikelsons but Rose knew better than to pry. She adored Caroline. She was giving and bright and had this light that was rare from vampires who were as old as they were. However, that light could go out just as quickly as her husband's temper turned.
“Just another week. Then Klaus will drain her and I will never have to suffer seeing that face again.” Caroline replied as she picked an evening primrose. She turned towards Rose and smiled. She pushed Rose's dark curls behind her ear and placed the yellow flower in her hair. “There, you look beautiful. Now tell me, has Trever professed his undying love for you yet?” Rose laughed. Caroline always tried to convince the two of them that they were made for one another when neither Rose nor Trever saw anything romantic in one another.
“No. Not at all. You know that he is nothing more than a brother to me.” Rose chuckled and Caroline laughed with her. Caroline had this laughed that was musical and Rose couldn't help but feel uplifted when she heard it.
“Of course. Then again he is far to busying bedding the doppelganger.” Rose froze with wide eyes. She wasn't sure if Caroline knew and if Caroline knew then Klaus did as well. “I do hope that his habits won't become a distraction.” Rose nodded negatively. Caroline gave another wide smile. “Good. I would hate for my husband to be forced to end him. If you tried to stop it, Nik would kill you too and I would hate to lose one of my best friends.”
Rose couldn't respond. Laughter could be heard in the gardens. The two turned their heads and saw Katerina running towards them. Her long dark brown curls bounced behind her and she turned her head towards the man who was chasing her. Elijah. Caroline rolled her eyes and looked at the pair. She turned to Rose but muttering.
“Another reason Trever shouldn't become too attached is the fact that Elijah will probably take her to bed before the full moon.” Caroline hissed. The dark haired girl stopped in front of them and Elijah was quickly on her heels. If Katerina was paying attention, she might have noticed that Elijah caught up to her far to quickly for a mere human.
“Hello.” Katerina said as she looked between the two. It was clear that she wasn't sure who they were but intended to find out.
“Katerina, may I introduce my sister, Caroline and her friend, Rose.”
“Oh! I was so hoping to meet you. Is Rebekah with you?” Caroline plastered a fake smile on her lips and her ice blue eyes traveled over the girl. Clearly Elijah has been speaking of the family, which was fine as long as they kept the important parts a secret. Apparently her marriage to Klaus was one of them; much to her distain.
“No. Rebekah is away for the time being.” In a coffin. With a dagger in her chest. Because she sided with Caroline on Klaus's idea of hiding their marriage. While Klaus would never dare dagger Caroline, Rebekah was fair game to him and her displeasing him in such a manner was enough for Klaus to put her to sleep. “But she will be back soon, I am sure.”
“Oh, that is a pity. I was hoping to get to know both of my new sisters.” Katerina smiled at her and it took every ounce of control Caroline had to not rip out her throat. While the doppelganger may not realize how violent Caroline's thoughts were, she could tell that the blonde did not like her very much. Elijah had stated that Caroline and Klaus were close and that she was protective towards him. She could only hope that over time the blonde would grow to accept her as Klaus's wife because it was clear that he was going to offer for her.
“Rose.” Caroline turned. “Would you mind stalling our stroll to another time? I would like some time to get to know Katerina.” Rose nodded and bowed slightly. She turned to walk away at a human speed but Caroline called out to her again. “Do think on what we discussed. It would mean a great deal to me if you do.” Caroline smiled when Rose nodded. She turned back towards Katerina and linked their arms together. “Do not fret Elijah, she will be perfectly safe with me.” Elijah looked at her wearily and turned. He knew that Caroline would not harm her because she was important to Klaus and that was all that mattered to his wife.
The two strolled a little while, admiring the flowers and making small comments about them. Caroline wanted to ensure that Elijah was far enough away that he could not hear them. That last thing she needed was her brother to be gaining too much attachment with the doppelganger, as she was soon to die anyway.
“Tell me Katerina, how are you finding England?”
“Very well. It is much different than Bulgaria certainly but it has its charms.” The girl smiled, trying hard to get the other to like her. Katerina was never a people pleaser but she needed to at least try and form a friendship with her.
“Charms? Like Niklaus?”
“Yes. He is quite charming.” Caroline stopped and rolled her eyes and Katerina stopped, shocked at the reaction. Caroline had enough of her after only a few words. She turned and bent down slightly since she was a bit taller than her. Her eyes dilated and Katerina became entranced.
“What do you really think of Niklaus?”
“He is handsome but he doesn't pay me any mind but everyone says he will make me offer of marriage. It is as though he doesn't notice me or want me at all, only to do what is expected of him. Elijah is much more pleasing.” That made Caroline smile. She wouldn't lie and say that she had some worry over Klaus and the doppelganger. It was clear that Katerina would sleep with anyone that would let her but Klaus was hers. No other woman was to touch him. Ever. There was that small rough patch in France a few hundred years ago but they had grown since then. Yet, she had been worried. While this wasn't Tatia, she looked like her. Klaus had been infatuated with her once, and here she was in the flesh again. The narcotic part of her brain couldn't help but be jealous.
“Anything else?”
“He scares me. I don't know what he would do to me if he found out.”
“Found out what?”
“That I allowed Trever to bed me and that I had a child out of wedlock.” That made Caroline pause.
“A child? Where is it?”
“She was taken from me. My father took her from my arms just has I had given birth to her. I have no idea where she is or whom she was given too. She would be two years old now.” Even in the mist of compulsion, Caroline could tell that she thought of her daughter often. Caroline felt a pang of sympathy in her heart as she thought of the child she never got to know. The one that never even had the chance grow inside of her but that she so desperately wanted to give Klaus.
And then that pang was gone.
“You will go to bed and sleep until the sun comes up. We spent most of the night strolling through the gardens, getting to know one another. You heard me laugh and believe that we have become great friends. You never told me of your daughter or your relationship with Trever.” Katerina repeated her instructions and turned on her heels, making her way back towards the castle. Caroline stood there, watching as Katerina fled back into the castle.
This is @thetourguidebarbie‘s birthday fic. The prompt she gave me was “Caroline is one of the werewolves in the werewolf village thing so there are two original hybrids”.
Happy early birthday!
Excerpt:
986
The first time Niklaus Mikaelson crossed the Falls was when he was very young, only six years old. He'd been told he was never to cross the stream, and yet, he did. It brought a high he would chase for the rest of his life - the high of doing something bad. He would be punished for it, but he didn't care. He liked being bad, defying Father. A beating wouldn't take away from this feeling.
He walked for a long time, on as straight a path he could make. He noticed that there wasn't a difference in those trees, that he could've been walking in the one behind his home. Rabbits and squirrels skittered around, hiding from him.
He was still walking, not feeling particularly worried about his being alone, when he realized he was being watched. The feeling wasn't like when a deer or rabbit watched him; no, it was different. Like he was the prey, his brain supplied. Like when Father watched him return home.
He wanted to shake it off, dismiss it as his mind playing tricks on him. But he couldn't - if the gaze felt like it was coming from Father, like it was spelling danger, then he couldn't write it off.
Niklaus made himself continue on, hoping to buy some time so he could do...something. Anything to make sure he lived.
That was shot to Hel when a little girl popped into his path.
She was probably not much younger than him, with long blonde hair tied back into a braid, and piercing blue eyes that stared at him almost boredly. Her outfit - a dress and pants - suggested she wasn't a viking.
She didn't seem like a threat, not really. But he'd seen the people of surrounding tribes, and the most dangerous always seemed bored. He'd also seen bison look like they had much better things to do than get hunted down just before they struck.
"Who are you," she demanded, saying the Norse words with little difficulty.
He drew himself to his full height (not very impressive at six, no, but he was still taller than her by a half inch). He'd seen Father do it enough times successfully that he was sure he'd intimidate her. "Niklaus Mikaelson," he said. "Who are you?"
"Caroline," she replied, eyes watching him move and not seeming the slightest bit scared. He shifted on his feet, and she inched forward. He had no real idea how to harm another person, just fish and animals. But if she touched him, he would strike back. He wouldn't let her hurt him.
"What are you doing here?" She asked. "Surely you must have a purpose for crossing over into the land of my alpha, Ansel."
Ansel? He had no idea who Ansel was, nor that this was his land. The word 'alpha' also didn't make any sense to him.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, deciding not to say that he was, quite obviously, walking and she should've been able to see that. "Who is Ansel?"
She scoffed, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Everyone knows who Ansel is."
“IT IS 3AM AND YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO LIGHT FIREWORKS? I’LL KILL YOU” au
@thetourguidebarbie i saw this on your list of KC prompts and I couldn’t help myself. This will be rough since I’m on my phone.
Unleash The Beast
Caroline went from deep sleep to alertness in a fraction of a second, as evidenced by her eyes popping open. What woke her up was a loud boom in the sky. A loud boom in the sky that had no place waking her up.
She rose from the bed like the Undertaker, and she thought, when I get my hands on him, he’ll wish I was that brute.
He, in this case, was her husband. Niklaus. The man who apparently thought that setting off fireworks at – what the fuck – 3 AM was a good idea.
How did she know it was him, you may be wondering. Well, he wasn’t in bed with her and the accompanying laughter that followed each blast was a distinct one, one she’d heard everyday for a thousand years.
She also heard Kol’s laughter. Her scowl turned into a malicious grin. Any chance she got to berate not only Klaus but Kol, too, she took and quite gleefully at that.
She swept through the house at vampire speed, coming to the back porch and finding that yes, her husband and brother in law were outside with piles of explosives. Of all the dangerous hobbies Kol just had to rope Klaus into….
As soon as the door opened, Klaus stiffened. Good. He knew what was coming. Kol turned around, grinning like a goofy little puppy. Too bad for him that Caroline are goofy little puppies for breakfast.
She stepped into the grass, letting the humidity of the night wash over her before she unleashed the beast. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.
Then she opened them again, put her hands on her hips, and said as clearly as she could, “what the hell do you think you are doing?”
Klaus winced, opened his mouth to grovel. Kol interrupted whatever he was about to say with, “Carebear, we’re just having some fun. Really. No need for such ire.” She was almost proud to note that his eyes didn't stray to her body, covered by only a t-shirt of Klaus' and thankfully modest underwear. Maybe he was finally learning.
Klaus hissed and hit him over the head. “Kol, shut up.” He turned back to his wife. “Love, I’m sorry if we woke you up, we – ”
“You woke up everyone in this god awful town, Klaus, not just me." Her raised eyebrow made him stiffen further, instinctually wanting to rise to the bait. He didn't; he was smarter than that.
"I suggest you stop with this foolish little bonding moment and come back to bed before I lock you out of our room,” she threatened. This was a threat bandied around often. Nothing was worse than not sleeping curled around each other (well, okay, not true, but true enough after their centuries). It wasn't something he'd risk, she knew. He hadn't done so in years.
His eyes widened, and he turned quickly to his brother. “Kol – ”
Kol grumbled, but dropped down to start cleaning the mess they’d made. It greatly amused her that Klaus hadn't even had to say anything before he was obeying. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just go back upstairs so Caroline can get her precious beauty rest."
Caroline took that as her leave, sweeping back upstairs to the bedroom. Klaus was hot on her heels, fidgeting nervously.
When they got to the room, she let him enter before saying, "next time you wake me up with fireworks, I swear, I will wring your neck." She pointed for good measure.
He nodded, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, then."
"Good. And for gods sake, please find a way to bond with Kol that doesn't involve anything even remotely dangerous! Take him for a walk or something! God," she sighed, settling into bed. She hoped she could fall back asleep.
Klaus laughed as he too settled in. He wrapped an arm around her waist, being her flush to him. His laugh vibrated his chest behind her, making her eyes close at the feeling. She was mad at him, but it wouldn't be for long she knew. Not when was being all tactile and cute. (Goddamn him, she thought to herself.)
"He's not a dog, love, I can't take him to go meet friends and throw a stick around to occupy him for a little while."
"Sure you can," she countered. "Just go to the park and tell him I said if he doesn't go along with it, he'll regret it."
She'd really only sic Rebekah on him, but he would shudder to even think it if he knew.
Klaus sighed, nuzzling his nose into her neck. You're mad at him, she reminded herself. He woke you up.
"I'll tell him," he said, nipping her earlobe. "But I think it's important that I remind you that you are not the one he's truly scared of."
Caroline laughed. How cute it was that he thought he was still the scary one. "Of course, darling," she purred anyway. She could give him the illusion of power in their relationship, their family. But they both knew exactly who was the boss there, and it certainly wasn't him.
WARNING: Mikael is a dickhead. Title comes from, of course, Dear Theodosia.
Original!Caroline AU because that’s my jam, featuring Marcel. Let me know if you want more of this AU, because I’d love to write it.
Read and review here. Sequel here.
Caroline ran her hands through the boy’s hair, comforting him as best she could. “He tries, Marcel. He does.”
Marcel’s shoulders shook with sobs, and Caroline, in that moment, hated Mikael more than ever before. It was Mikael who ruined Klaus, who now ruined Marcel.
“Why, mama? Why is he so mean?” The young boy pleaded. He curled into her, and her heart shattered at the sight of her son, laid so low.
She laid down with him, determined to stay the night. Klaus would just have to sleep alone, that night.
In a whisper, she told her son the secret they’d been keeping from him for two years. “Marcel, I have to be honest with you. The truth is ugly but in order to understand why your father is the way he is, you must know.”
He sniffled, “okay.” With wide eyes, his innocence was still intact, at least a little bit. She didn’t doubt that the next death he witnessed at his father’s hand would rip it away from him.
“Your father was born of an illegal relationship. His father was not the same as Aunt Rebekah and Uncle Elijah’s father. Their father, Mikael, knew that Klaus was not his son and treated him as such. Your father received beatings for every little thing he did. He was never shown love, just anger and aggression.”
“He isn’t angry and aggressive with you,” he pointed out, wiping away his tears.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “But that is because I have been loyal to him since we were children, over 800 years ago now. He has learned to be affectionate with me, but he has not with you. Though he would never hurt you,” she hurried to assure. “He just does not know how to be anything but cruel, and doesn’t think about how you will react to it.”
Marcel looked away, blinking suspiciously again. “Will you tell him that I don’t want to see his business please? I don’t think I can.”
“Of course, darling,” she soothed, rubbing his back.
“Thank you, mama,” he sighed. “Can we talk about somethin’ else now?”
They talked until his eyes drooped. “You go on to bed, and I’ll be right back, okay?”
He nodded, mostly asleep. The moment she was out of the bed, he curled into a tighter circle, more on the spot she’d been in than in his own.
She slunk out silently. As soon as she hit the steps, Klaus was there with his arms crossed. “Done coddling the boy, are you?”
“I think you mean, ‘done comforting our son, are you?’,” she snapped. The urge to push him down the staircase was strong, but she knew she couldn’t hurt him. All she could do was sass him ‘til the sun rose and there would be no emotional harm done. Sass didn’t remind him of what Mikael did to him.
She loved him more than any other being on the planet, and she could not do that to him. No matter how annoying he was.
He glowered at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking. Her refusal to do as other wives do and just slap him silly when he needed a good whack was something they pointedly ignored, but don’t be fooled. He knew exactly why she didn’t. “He shouldn’t need comforting!”
Her hands went to her hips instantly. “He is twelve, and dealing with having you for a father. Some comfort could go a long way in ensuring he doesn’t turn against you in the future.” Gods, if only he used his brain and realized that. She wouldn’t be able to bear being caught between her husband and her son.
His eyes, usually lovely and sweet, were hard. “No matter what I do, he will go against me, I who has saved him from torment, who has fed and clothed him, treated him as my own, who -- “
She raised a hand, cutting him off. “Not another word, Niklaus. Think about what you are saying. Think about who you are emulating right now, and how you felt when you were in Marcel’s place. Then perhaps you will realize just why I am choosing him over you.”
She turned, ready to return to her child. He wasn’t hers by blood, and she hadn’t chosen him, but she’d loved him since he stepped into her home, Klaus right behind him.
“You dare compare me to Mikael?” He spit, reaching for her. She spun, grabbing his wrist and twisting.
“Yes,” she said simply. “And before I forget, Marcel has decided he wants nothing of your ‘family business’. So leave him out of it, or you will regret it.” You’re lucky I love you hung between them, not needing to be said.
She left him in the hallway, a glare chasing her to her baby’s room.
The next morning, a charcoal drawing of Caroline cradling Marcel in her arms sat innocently on his bedside table. On the bottom, he’d written, you have given me something to aspire for, All My Love, Klaus.
With a sigh, Caroline left it. It would do Marcel some good to see the human side of his father, after all.
It didn’t mean he was off her hit list, but it was a start. That was all she could ask for.
From @thetourguidebarbie: “so maybe original!caroline goes to mystic falls for some reason and runs into elena and then compels the entire town to think she'd always been there”
I hope you like it, Angie! Rated M, but technically SFW.
Read and review here.
It happens at the turn of the twenty-first century.
Klaus finally snaps, fed up with Finn’s insistence that they stop killing or turning innocents. When he should be thankful that Finn has backed down from ‘stop feeding period’, Klaus is instead angry. His anger leads him to the thing that Caroline has forbidden him from doing -- daggering his siblings. Though he’s had the weapons for almost as long as they’ve been alive, he’s never used them.
They’re quite easy to use, he finds, and almost...fun. Just stab, and your annoying prat of a brother is silent. Good think he has more than one.
Caroline does not share his sentiments. No, instead she is angry. Her anger leads her to the thing that Klaus has insisted will not happen, now or ever -- an ultimatum saying that, if he wants to sleep in the same bed as her, he’ll not only wake Finn up, apologize, and vow to never do it again, he’ll also feed on animals or bags to prove his sincerity.
“Absolutely not,” he growls, not caring about the audience. He and his siblings live in each other’s pockets, anyway, so what does it matter if they see?
Caroline puts her hands on her hips and gives him The Look -- the one that’s always meant he’ll back down, right now, or suffer grave consequences. He shuts himself up tight to ward it off, even though it’s never worked before. “If you don't, then….” She trails off, grasping for a threat. He knows she won’t find one that won’t also hurt her -- he has the same problem. Sleep on the couch? Then they don’t get to cuddle. Eat or feed alone? Then there’s no banter. Life is boring without his wife, even when he’s mad at her.
He taunts, “then what?”
He wishes he didn’t, in retrospect.
She steels herself, ignores Kol’s cackling, and says, “then I’ll leave.”
Kol cuts off with a choke, and all eyes are on them, even Elijah’s. He barely notices, though, too caught up with Caroline to worry about what his siblings are doing.
At first, he doesn’t believe her. Every other time she’s said that, it was a joke. He wasn’t painting her enough, she wasn’t getting enough loving in bed, he’d argued with his siblings again, etc. He’s even said it to her -- when she spends more time with his younger siblings than she does with him, or when their banter moves in that direction. But it’s never been something serious.
“I don’t believe you,” he says simply. He’s found over the years that she’ll back down if he’s cold enough. Then again, she’s found it to be true the other way around.
Her eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, he’s worried. Maybe he needs to shut up, unstab Finn, and do whatever she says. But then her face smoothes out, and all she says is, “you’re right, I’m not leaving. But you’re still sleeping on the couch.” Then she flounces off, Kol at her heels.
It’s a win but not a victory, because that night, he can’t sleep without her by his side. He falls asleep so late he can see the sun rising through the windows. He’ll paint it for her, is his last thought before he finally sleeps.
When he wakes up, he has all kinds of plans to make sure she lets him keep Finn comatose. There’s no chance she’ll just let Finn rot, not unless Klaus coaxes her. He’s thinking Paris, a bottle of champagne, and hours spent with his head between her lovely thighs. He’s done that many times, but it's always worked like a charm.
There’s one problem, though, one thing stopping that from becoming reality again.
She’s nowhere to be found. Not in bed, not in the kitchen, or the studio, or in town. She’s gone.
Ten years later, Caroline is really starting to regret going home.
She’d chosen Mystic Falls as a way to be someone else, while still being the girl she once was. She saw it as a way to be new and old at the same time.
Well, she’s gotten over that.
Being human again was nice, even though she’d never truly been one. She’s happy being a vampire in the eyes of her companions, because every single one is surprised at the tricks she knows. Even Damon Salvatore, whose eyes stay firmly on two parts of her body and who believes himself to be the better vampire, is in awe when she does things not even he knows.
She’s sorely tempted to tell him that Stefan is the older vampire in their case, and she’s roughly five times their age. Knocking him down a peg is so very nice. (The face makes when he’s baffled makes her inner blood-thirsty self want to pounce.)
He reminds her of her husband in those thoughts. Klaus is always on his high horse; seeing him fall off can be quite enjoyable.
“Caroline!” A voice calls from the living room. It’s Elena and the Salvatores, by the sound of their feet. She sits up in bed, makes sure nothing is spilling out of her tank top, and doesn’t have to wait very long before the doppelganger and the brothers are in her room.
Tangent time: the doppelganger. It was a happy accident that she lived in the town Caroline picked. What isn’t a happy accident is Caroline keeping her existence a secret from Klaus. She has no idea how she’ll justify it to him but for now, she isn’t worrying about it. Much.
Second tangent: does anyone in this little gang have any idea what boundaries are? Honestly, they barge into her room whenever they want. Bonnie has gotten quite a show several times. Regrettably, so has Stefan. And Matt….and Elena. Maybe she can get Liz to invest in a lock for her room. Asking Liz for things is easy, even without Maddox and Greta helping her maintain the spell on Mystic Falls. She doesn’t have to strengthen it around her supposed mother, mostly because of bloodlines but also because Liz was so lonely her mind has embraced the idea of a daughter completely.
Enough of that, though. Caroline has been forcing herself to stop thinking so much, lately. It was almost affecting the spell -- her anxiety and unease can cause ripples, apparently. If she were anymore like her husband, then Greta and Maddox would certainly be dead by now. Good thing she’s much kinder, then, and can deal with small problems like normal people.
But seriously. Back to real life, now.
Elena’s said something. Caroline’s heard nothing, though it’s not uncommon for her to ignore the garbage the girl spews. There’s a moment they just stare at each other, ending with Elena caving and looking away. It’s hard not to let a smug smile show; after years of winning against Klaus and being insufferable afterwards, it’s become a habit.
Caroline blinks at Elena, making herself look stupid, and asks, “come again?”
Damon instantly gets a sour look on his face, like he can’t stand her. She can’t help but think that if he pulled that face around Klaus, he would die instantly. The thought makes her smile.
“Have you ever heard of Elijah?” Elena says again, waving her hands.
Caroline’s blood turns to ice. “Elijah? Why do you ask?”
“You don’t know?” Damon asks snidely. Caroline ignores him so hard it must permanently dent his ego.
“When I woke up, there were these two vampires there, Rose and Trevor. Some stuff happened, mostly talking, then a vampire named Elijah came, apparently to take me to a guy named Klaus. He got staked, and we left his body there. We just got back.” She pulls a confused face. “I told Matt to tell you what happened.”
Caroline’s first thought is ‘oh shit’. Her second is ‘why does the guy on the fringes of the drama know these things before me?’. Her third is ‘oh shit’.
Because not only will Elijah, who is definitely not dead, be pissed, he’ll bring Klaus with him, and Klaus will also be pissed.
She figures she has two options here: tell the babies about the Originals (maybe even being one of them) or tell her family where to find a doppelganger, vampire, and werewolf. The first option is stupid but loyal; she wants to keep some friends, mainly Bonnie, and that’s the best way to do so. Option two is difficult but right; she’ll have to talk to the family she walked away from, but considering she spent a thousand years with them, it should be fine. She hopes.
In the end, Caroline picks the third option: wait it out. She knows what she wants to do, what she should do, and what is right, but...she just can’t decide. It’s probably too much to hope it doesn’t come back to bite her in the ass.
It should be painfully obvious. Klaus enjoys attention like Caroline enjoys being loved. And what better way to get that attention than to be as dramatic as possible?
She knows this as an essential part of her husband. She’s never known him without his need of attention being center stage. So why on Earth does she not expect it? How could she have not guessed it?
When their eyes meet, it’s like he’s asking her the same thing.
He’s standing at the end of the table in The Grill, ignoring everyone sitting with her, and looking all kinds of delicious. Hair a little shorter than the last time they saw each other, clothes casual but fitted, his devil-may-care expression firmly in place….
She shifts obviously, and his smirk speaks volumes. His eyes have a spark of confusion behind them, but the way his lips are twisted up are reassured, no questions there.
Elena speaks, breaking them from the gaze. The words don’t compute, and Caroline doesn’t even try to understand.
When Caroline left, she thought she would just be waiting until Klaus undaggered Finn, but then he didn’t, and she met Greta, who, along with Maddox, gave her this charmed little life. All these years, she’s kept Klaus mostly out of her thoughts. It’s easier to ignore his existence than it is to remember their centuries together. But seeing him has shattered her life here -- she can’t go so long without him. Not again.
“I’m Klaus,” he says to Elena, voice light and friendly. He slides into the booth next to her, ending up pressed against her side when she doesn’t move to make room. Instead of touching her or even looking at her, he pays her no mind. All he does is say, “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
Caroline’s face turns hard, for appearance’s sake. On the inside, though, she’s practically purring. He used his danger voice, the one he always uses before a massacre. While she finds violence abhorrent, he’s always looked good blood splattered and wild. It’s so easy to just like the flecks off his chest --
His eyes slide over to her, smug as ever. His eyebrow quirks, no words needed for him to communicate. She rolls her eyes, both for her friends and also because of course he knows what she’s thinking. Somehow, he always does.
Elena watches their interaction like a hawk, probably so she can report it back to the Salvatores. She doesn’t comment on it, though, instead saying, “you won’t get away with it. Rose told me why you’re doing this.” Trying to make her voice sound big and tough is not small and gentle Elena’s forte, and it’s painfully obvious. “There’s no reason to kill me so all the vampires on the planet can get some sunlight.”
Klaus tilts his head, attention back on the doppelganger. Caroline slinks an inch away, but he scoots again so the space is gone. With a laugh in his voice, he says, “is that what you think this is?”
That throws the girls on the other side for a loop. They’re thinking, do we really know what Klaus wants?
The answer is clearly no, and Caroline feels extremely grateful in that moment. If they find out what he really wants, they will never forgive her.
Half an hour later, Caroline is pressed up against a brick wall not far from The Grill. Bonnie and Elena are...somewhere, she doesn’t really care. All she cares about is getting her explanation out.
“I was angry with you for daggering Finn, and I thought it would do you well to have some consequences to your actions,” at this he scoffs, but she continues without rising to the bait, “so I left. I thought you’d wake him up and then I would return, but after a week without Finn walking around, I left the city. I kept tabs for the first six months, but you weren’t budging, so I stopped.”
She pauses, taking him in. With his jaw clenched and blank face, he seems irritated. When he talks, though, he sounds the kind of calm that doesn’t mean he’s enraged. “I wasn’t worried about him, I was worried about you. You were gone, no trace of you anywhere, and...I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find you.” He grits it out, even though the words hold meaning. He never cares when Kol runs away, not seriously, at least.
Her demeanor softens, and she pulls him closer. They’ve gone much more than ten years apart before, but never because one of them ran away. Each time, they end up back in bed (or a bathtub, a couch, a hallway, once) very quickly after. She hopes it can be the same way this time, after they talk, of course.
“I hid from you,” she says simply. “I did it because I was still mad at you, and then, after a while, I’d been gone too long to just come back. It sounds stupid, I know, but,” she sighs, not finishing her sentence. “I travelled for about six years, then I moved to Richmond. I met a witch there named Greta, who eventually told me she owed you a favor. And what’s yours is mine, right, so I asked her to help me settle down somewhere. She knows this spell that can charm a whole town, makes them think you’ve always been there. And I chose Mystic Falls.”
“And you chose this wretched town because…?”
Looking him right in the eye, she answers, “not because of the doppelganger. I didn’t even know she was here. I chose here because it’s home.” Because it’s nice to reminisce about our marriage, she doesn’t say, but like always, he hears.
“Home? This bit of land isn’t home, we are. You should have stayed.”
“You should have done as I said,” she counters, because this isn’t all her fault and no way is he going to blame it on her. “I told you, use those daggers and there’d be consequences. This isn’t the eleventh century, and you aren’t the boss of the family anymore. You don’t get to lay on the blame on my shoulders.”
With so little space between them, she can feel the way he relaxes against her. “I love your fire,” he says, flashing a wicked smile. “Even when it leads to...all this. We’re both to blame,” not me, he doesn’t say, but she hears and she’s not cool with it, don’t be fooled, “and we both have some apologizing to do. I say we get started now, hmm?”
He quirks his eyebrow again, cajoling, but she has no time for that. As cute as it is, her husband is good at convincing her to distract her, especially when she won’t stand to be distracted.
With a stony face, she demands, “is Finn still daggered? Are any of them daggered?”
“No and no, love.” He seems sincere, but he seemed sincere when he said he liked her poor attempt at calligraphy back in the sixteen hundreds, and he was lying then.
Caroline gives him her bitch-please face, to which he gives her his I’m-an-angel face. There’s a momentary stand off, with her standing on her tiptoes to be eye-to-eye.
It’s not long before they’re in her bed, reconnecting. He’s got her moaning again in no time, and vice versa.
It’s really too bad that Elena barges in and gets an even bigger show than last time.
Warnings for Silas, angst + hurt/comfort, and lots of Delena (both together and individual) bashing. Maybe a little OOC.
Set in s4 of TVD. Rated T/SFW.
Silas played his little game with them all, none more so than the vampires of the group.
Which meant Giuseppe Salvatore and Lexi Branson and even Lucien Castle appeared in Mystic Falls. They were always angry, but still enough like their true selves to not cause suspicion until Silas wanted you suspicious. There was an edge of pure, unmitigated danger in each of them, uncontrollable and unpredictable.
Klaus had to remind himself that it was just Silas, insisting on getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Kind of like himself but worse, Caroline said. She joked that it was the worst thing about Mystic Falls -- there were two of him.
That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part, Klaus thought, was the others around he and Caroline. Always scheming, always thinking the world revolved around them. No one cares that Elena is being mildly inconvenienced by this, he wanted to say every single time he was roped into one of their stupid, foolish plans. No one with half a brain cell cares about Elena, period. (Elijah didn’t count. It wasn’t his fault he fell for the same face every time, it was the person behind the face’s fault for manipulating him into affection.)
Speaking of, Elena was going on and on about one of those stupid, foolish plans, one that was clearly Damon’s opinions regurgitated into a plan (sponsored by Damon, Caroline liked to say). He was being forced to sit at the table, Caroline practically in his lap since they were in a booth meant for four, maybe five people. It was seating eight people, nine if you counted Elena and Damon as separate entities.
Ostensibly, they were there for several reasons: they wanted to be kept up-to-date, Caroline was slowly cracking Bonnie’s shell so she would be open to a friendship, Rebekah didn’t want to be there alone, etc. There were more, he was sure.
In reality, they were there because Caroline liked to watch the trainwreck that was the Salvatores + Doppelganger. Entertainment at it’s finest.
Klaus buried his nose into Caroline’s hair and forced himself to hide his distaste. He’d rather hear literally any person on the planet droning on more than her. Aurora de Martel would be nice, right about now, with her nails-on-a-chalkboard-voice, obvious flirting, and even more obvious hatred. Caroline would probably claw her eyes out -- and what a wonderful sight that would be. Much more entertaining than Damon Squared and The Judgement Squad.
The doppelganger stuttered and stopped; his head popped up, intrigued. Maybe Damon had cut her stream off; the power imbalance was a delicious little treat. (Caroline found it disgusting, but he disagreed. It really added to the not-boring factor that was so often left lacking.)
But no, she was looking towards the doors. Her mouth was open in evident confusion (and the fact that he knew her well enough to know confusion on her face just made him despair. There were very few things he hated more than doppelgangers) but she didn’t seem to be scared or anything. Not that she did that anymore, with her link to Damon making her fearless.
His head tilted so he could see what had stopped her. When he did, his whole body froze.
A familiar grin, hair shorn close to the skull, an air a mix of cockiness and submission. The posture was the same, as was the gait, the...everything.
He, Caroline, and Rebekah watched, shocked, as … it stepped closer to the group. It wasn’t his son, it wasn’t his, it probably wasn’t even a shred human. No matter how much it resembled the boy he’d lost in 1919, it wasn’t him.
Objectively, he knew it was Silas, jerking their chains. Subjectively, he knew it was nothing but a shapeshifter, an evil, malicious monster who was there to threaten his family.
“Papa,” it said the second it was within feet of the table. “Why are you making that face? Something wrong?”
That godsdamned attitude, the one Klaus loved to hate and hated to love. His teeth clenched and his jaw jumped. How dare Silas do this. He could understand wanting to be with the love of your life, wanting chaos and destruction and death. But he could not understand why anyone would do...this.
“Silas,” he growled, easing Caroline further into Rebekah’s side. The children around him tensed, not knowing who Silas was showing himself as but trusting that Klaus did. It probably helped that Caroline and Rebekah were glaring so hard, they could’ve burned a hole with the heat in their gazes. Three of six Originals glaring at someone? Definitely a threat.
The grin morphed into a sinister smirk, one that he’d seen much too often lately. “How did you know,” he drawled, leaning up against the high backed seat. Rebekah leaned back, disgusted. “Was it the teeth? I think his are a little more crooked than I have them.” Silas flashed the teeth of his son, perfectly straight, unlike the real ones.
“Are”. Fucking Silas.
He took a quick moment to make sure his eyes stayed human and his fangs didn’t break through his gums. No need to traumatize the innocents of this little town anymore than he already had.
“No, it was the part where you’ve taken the form of someone who’s long dead,” Rebekah answered for them, spitting the words out. Caroline was frozen, pressed up against him. He wasn’t faring much better.
“Oh, this ‘ole boy? Please. He isn’t dead,” Silas pfft’ed, waving a hand. “Haven’t you been down that way in the last hundred years? Marcellus here is on top of the world.”
Caroline growled, “shut up. Now.” All eyes (of the children, that is) snapped to her. She was known for being the calm presence that could branch between the children and Elijah, depending on if he was on their side or not, and Klaus, Rebekah, and on occasion, Kol. She had never shown the side of her that was angry, hungry, and defensive to the children. That was why they were all scared of Klaus but civil with Caroline. She was the nice one who wouldn’t kill you if a mood swing hit.
His eyes flicked to Bonnie, who didn’t seem scared of Caroline. But then, she didn’t always seem scared of him, so he couldn’t be sure if Caroline was losing a potential friend here or not. He hoped not. She had so few….
Bonnie wasn’t important right now, though. Caroline was. His hand, already on her waist, tucked around her and pulled her closer. He wouldn’t let her fight Silas, especially not with him taking the visage of their son. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t take much effort on Silas’ part for her to jump over the table and get hurt trying to decapitate him.
“Now, why would I do that? I’m telling the truth.”
“No, you’re manipulating us to believe your...your idiotic, unfounded stories. Marcel is dead! I saw it happen!” Caroline’s voice grew more and more distressed. Tears sprung to her eyes, visibly shocking the children; he held her tighter to him, heart cracking open. “You’re lying!”
Silas made a poor imitation of his son’s empathetic face, mouth turning down and eyes softening. It made Klaus want to pull a page out of Kol’s book and torture him, rip him limb from limb.
“I’m not lying. He’s alive, running around and terrorizing the witches and wolves. He goes by Marcel Gerard, now. I guess it sounds better than Mikaelson.” Silas shrugged. “You should go see for yourselves.”
Klaus stiffened. Silas wanted them to go to New Orleans? No way it was happening now. He refused to play into the evil plans of the immortal in front of him.
He was about to snap something to that effect when the insufferable ingrate Salvatore brother said, “um, I know you’re Silas, but who the hell are you supposed to be now? We’re all confused and this little pow-wow here,” he waved his fingers, “isn’t telling us much.”
Silas grinned. “Oh, this is Marcellus Mikaelson. The son of the Original Hybrid and his darling wife, Caroline.” He paused, surveyed the group -- the three Originals, the Salvatores, the doppelganger, the witch, and the hunter -- and said, “I was going to have you do something, threaten you all, etc. etc., but you know what? I like leaving on this note. Ta ta!”
And then he was sweeping out of the bar, taking the last of their son with him.
The second he was out of view, Caroline elbowed him hard in the ribs and tried to push Rebekah out of the booth. He clamped his arms around her, ignoring the pain, while Rebekah threw her legs over Caroline’s, keeping her in her spot.
“I have to go see,” Caroline said, voice cracking. “I have to go see if he was telling the truth. I have to see Marcel.” She turned slightly, to address Klaus. “I have to see our son! He needs us, Klaus, please.” She was so distraught, so despaired. His heart broke all over again at the sight. “Please let me go see him,” she begged.
“Care,” Rebekah said, her demeanor softer than he’d seen it since the 1820’s, “he didn’t survive. He couldn’t have. The fire was too great, you know that. I’m sorry.”
Caroline sobbed, hating the truth, turning and pushing her face into his chest. The rest of the table watched, caught between intensely uncomfortable, confused, and upset. The witch, of all them all, looked the most empathetic, with the Rippah not far behind. (Good, that was good. She would hopefully be nice to Caroline after this, be more open to a friendship. Gods knew she needed it.)
Rebekah closed her eyes with a sigh, and stood. Klaus quickly pulled himself and Caroline out of the booth, needing to get away from the children and their judgements. Maybe this would finally shock them into realizing ‘Original’ did not equal ‘emotionless’.
He moved to the doors at a fast but human pace. Caroline clutched to his shirt, wrapped around him so tight, he was probably bruising. Her cries were loud and heart wrenching.
Someone stopped him just before he could leave. “Is she alright?” He didn’t look around, but he could tell that most of the people in The Grill were looking their way. Shit.
He tried to put on his socialite smile, the one Caroline said was nice but distant. In an effort to make them stand out less, he spoke in an American accent. “Yes, she’s fine.”
And then they were gone.
By the time he set her down on their bed, she’d stopped sobbing. He sat next to her heavily, hating her tears and hating Silas and hating Mikael, but most of all hating that he could do nothing to change the past.
Wiping her eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I believed him.” She sniffed, and pulled herself onto his lap. Always was more tactile the more upset she got. “I just wish it was true. That Marcel somehow made it out, is somehow still alive. King of New Orleans doesn’t sound too shabby,” she laughed wetly. Not for our baby, he almost heard her say.
He bit his cheek and rubbed her back. “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed. “He deserved nothing less.”
Klaus wasn’t going to say his name. He hadn’t since that awful night, since Elijah dragged him out of the theater and away from the fire. Since he died and took his parents’ hearts along with him.
He sighed and dropped his head to her shoulder. His wolf wanted him to scent her, but he couldn’t be bothered. He was too tired, too stressed, to do much of anything.
(She smelled so much like him, anyway, that it didn’t matter. His scent permeated her skin, her hair, her clothes, and every other piece of her. There was no need to rub his scent onto her even more. Except….)
He pushed his nose up her neck, taking comfort in both the action and the sigh she gave. He’d forgotten, for a moment, that scenting was comforting and grounding.
Her fingernails ran over his scalp, brushed through his hair.
“I really miss him.”
“I do too,” he whispered, nuzzling closer. “I miss him more and more everyday.”
A single sob fell from her lips. She curled tighter, legs and arms wrapping around him again.
They didn’t say anything else after that, just comforted each other like they had in the weeks and months after his death.
Original!Caroline AU. Warning for lots of blood, some underage (vikings married as young teens and slept in the nude, it’s unavoidable) and domestic feels. Mostly historically accurate.
In front of the fireplace was a bed. It wasn’t very comfortable, just the earthy floor under two layers of blankets and furs and a pillow of feathers, but it was theirs.
At first, Niklaus and Caroline had been uncomfortable sharing a bed. Theirs wasn’t a love match; they were barely friends. However, it had been a long few weeks, and they were much more comfortable together. They’d even shared, if you get Niklaus’ meaning, the bed several times, though Caroline was hesitant each time. He made sure she never regretted letting him so close.
He didn’t want her to regret anything about their match.
So when they woke up one morning, and blood was on their bedspread, he didn’t overreact. Father had always hated this about women, the bleeding. Most of the village didn’t care; in fact, most saw it as women getting closer to nature, to the gods. But Father was different, and he felt it was undignified. All of his children knew when Mother was bleeding, because Father always made her lay with Rebekah in her small bed.
Mother had hated that treatment. Niklaus would not do that to his wife.
Instead, he gently shook her awake.
She curled deeper into him, clutching her stomach. “What is it, Niklaus?” She moaned.
He rubbed her back, and she purred, pressing even closer to him.
“My love, you are bleeding,” he whispered into her ear. “Where did you put those things?”
“What things?” She asked, mostly asleep.
“The bits of wood with wool around them. You said they were for this, did you not?” When they’d moved into this home, she’d had several of those little things. She never named them, nor did she seem to want him to see them. She’d explained a few nights later that they were for her bleeding and they were to staunch the blood so that it didn’t get on their clothes. He’d accepted it and not asked where they were, though now he wished he had.
“Ohhhhh.” She blinked her eyes open. “They are by the water basin.” He nodded and pulled away to fetch them. As soon as he was mostly out of their warm bed, she added, “please hurry.”
“I will.” He moved to where their clothes were cleaned and looked in the drawers. In one were farming tools, in another were sewing tools, and in the last one, closest to the floor, was a small pile of the things. “How many do you need?”
“One.”
He grabbed the closest one and swiftly moved back to his beautiful wife. She had said she had bad stomach pains on her first and second day of bleeding, and sometimes even on the third. He didn’t want her to be in pain, and thought maybe these things would ease it.
He moved under the covers, snuggling close again. She wasn’t like Father had said a good wife was; she didn’t let him enter her every night, didn’t always please him first the times she did. Despite that, she wanted him close as soon as the sun had descended in the sky, and in the early morning light, she clung to him. That morning was no exception.
The only difference was, instead of kissing him as usual, she plucked the small tool from his hand. It went under their furs, and she did something with it he wasn’t sure what was. Briefly he thought maybe she put the piece inside of her, using the wool to hold the blood, but the thought was embarrassing.
Still, once it was done, she pushed the blankets away. He very deliberately did not look down, but looking up was no better. (With such a perfect body, he had married a goddess, he was sure. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but now that he had her, he wouldn’t give her up.)
“We need to replace the blankets,” she said. Together, they stripped the bed of the blankets, then she moved to get a new one. There were several on the loom, and two hanging off one of the pillars near the entrance.
He watched as she walked to them, frowning when he saw the blood on her legs. He had been told by several people that the bleeding, unlike in combat or injury, did not hurt. The only body parts that did hurt were the stomach, breasts, and, in his mother’s case, feet. Caroline told him the same.
Still, there was so much blood, he couldn’t help but think it had to hurt. They met in the middle of the home, as he was too concerned to wait. “Caroline, are you sure that the bleeding does not hurt?”
Her annoyance at being stopped softened. “Yes, Niklaus, I assure you. It’s just a lot of blood, that’s all. Now, I would like to lay down again before the day begins, so let’s remake the bed.” She pushed the blanket into his arms, clearly meaning that he was to be the one setting out the blanket.
He took it gracefully and did as told. Father would think him weak, submissive, but he didn’t care. It made Caroline happy, and if she was happy, then so was he. (And later that day, when she cried and said her stomach hurt so bad she felt like she was dying, he freaked out, completely went against everything Father said a man was, and stayed in bed with her all day, rubbing her stomach and telling stories that distracted her. It was surely the least he could do.)
One thousand years and broken curse later, they laid in their big king sized bed.
Again, there was blood on their blankets. Only this time, it was from Niklaus.
He’d been staked in his flank with some kind of special wood that wouldn’t kill but would maim. He claimed it didn’t hurt, but winced every time he moved. That stopped after she pulled the little bits out.
She dabbed at the wound with a cloth, not sure if the bleeding would stop any time soon. It had been nearly forty-five minutes, and it had yet to slow down.
“Does it still hurt?” He nodded, biting his lip with double fangs. Pain did that to him, every time. Usually, she loved his incisors, but in those moments, she wished they would stay inside his gums. “I’m sorry, my love.”
“This is what I get for listening to you and sparing the girl,” he grumbled.
She didn’t deny it, even though she knew he also did it because Elijah and Stefan insisted. “Yes, yes, I know.”
“Stop cooing at me,” he demanded, though his tone was very different than it was when he spoke to his hybrids. “I’m not a child.”
He was always grumpy in these moments, she reminded herself. He was her husband and she could not strike some gratitude into him, no matter how much she wanted to. “I know that. If you were, then you’d probably be asking me a million questions.”
He snickered, remembering their human years together. Whether it be her period or combat wounds, they both bled quite a lot. Every time, he’d asked if she felt okay, if she needed anything, if his wound was closing up, or any other thing he could think up. The roles had reversed as the years went on, with her being the rambler now and him the silent one. Despite that, neither had forgotten what he was like when they were teenagers.
“On that note, has it slowed yet?”
She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head. “Surely you can feel that it hasn’t yet.”
He shrugged with a wince. He’d also been shot in the shoulder with a bullet of regular wood; though it was long gone, he must’ve still felt phantom pain. “Caroline….”
“Don’t whine,” she berated. At the face he made, she softened. “What else should I do to make you feel better?”
He thought for a moment, then a wicked grin came to his face. “Kiss it better?”
