This story is a kinda-spin-off/ kinda re-write of my Klaroline exotic short fic, Sunset, as requested. Roughly set around the Chinese Tang dynasty (8th ~10th century AD), but I'm not going to focus on the accuracy of all the historical details so there will be errors. I apologize ahead for that.

Enjoy!

-4 years earlier-

"Down by the hills lived the village's milker

Lonely was the earnest old man's earnest daughter

Day after day it was dairy to the village she would deliver," Caroline sang to herself, the lyrics pouring from her mind and mouth automatically and naturally like the milk she was pouring into the huge bucket. After a pause as she lifted and placed the lidded bucket in their tattered tow with effort, she continued singing, her voice clear and bright among the thin woods as she jolted through the shortcut towards the village on the old donkey's back.

That was what she does, daily. Waking up almost the same time as the sun itself, feeding the few cows the Forbes family owned, cleaning the shabby barn that barely kept their financial source- the cows- safe during storms, milking the poor creatures, delivering the white liquid to the village square and try her best to sell it out before the sun set while the rest of her family tended to the weeded field her father called their farm, which Caroline had long confirmed barren after years of starving. And the only leisure, or rather hope, she owned in her tedious daily chores and her dull and trivial life was her songs.

"On days the bard visited the square folks would gather

And remotely, she'd hear tales of the remote wonders…" She was only 5 when she first knew how beautifully healing and amazing music was. It'd been when she wasn't old enough and milk delivery was her mother's duty and Elizabeth Forbes had had no choice except for taking her young daughter with her to the market. Caroline had heard a bard sang, of lands where girls her age needn't travel all those ways to a deserted village only to trade tons of milk for a price that could barely make her family's ends meet, of lands far, far away, where princesses wore clothes that were not only soft and warm but were also glistening and beautiful, of lands where all girls needed for living was her man's love. She'd dreamed of those mysterious lands every now and then but her imagination had never been creative enough to paint a convincing picture.

In time, she grew up and so had her childhood day dreams. Caroline was 14 now and she'd been assigned the milking job for 2 years already. No longer did she replace the blurry princess' faces with her own in her wandering mind. In fact, she was so burdened by the weight of life that her mind hardly even wandered, the only leisure she had was the talent she'd picked up after hearing the bard's enchanting ballads.

She couldn't dream, nor could she dance for her hands were tied and feet cuffed by reality, so all she could do was singing through her hopeless life.

Her singing turned to meaningless humming as the donkey reached the verge of the woods. The village could vaguely be seen and she never liked singing in public. She enjoyed the chirping birds' melody instead.

That was when she heard the difference in the usually delighting, sweet tunes. There was a tint of panic in the chattering, broken chirps and the longer Caroline focused on it, the surer she knew there was something wrong. She stopped the donkey out of impulsive curiosity and followed the source of the sounds to a pond hidden in the trees, the one she used to bath in when she was still a carefree child.

Ripples spread from the center of the pond splashed on the bank near her toes and Caroline couldn't help but gasped when she realized there was a nestling struggling in the middle of the water.

Other matured birds kept flying low, in wish of saving the young bird but it was struggling too hard that none of them could go close enough to pick it up, and the drops its struggling wings were splattering only made things worse.

Without a moment of hesitance, Caroline took off her shoes and walked into the pond to rescue the nestling, stirring water at her waist.

It was no effort, saving a light, feathered creature, comparing to the labor she did on a daily basis but it still got her drenched, from her waist to her toes. She debated going back to the donkey and milk directly, knowing no one would buy anything from her when she was still dripping wild pond water. But waiting for herself to dry wasn't a choice either, it would simply take too long that even if the milk weren't spoiled by then, she couldn't make it back home on time selling them.

She sighed and wrenching the hem of her dress, not knowing what to do.

"You know, you should probably have thought about that before you run straight into that pond," a male voice rang behind her out of the blue.

Not expecting anyone besides herself in this deserted woods, Caroline turned in shock, "oh God, you frightened me!"

"I apologize for that, but the pout on your face was simply too lovely I have to make a comment," the boy behind her replied with a smirk.

Caroline glared at his clear blue eyes, wild sandy-blond curls and wonderfully handsome face. He looked a few years older than her. She'd expected a bit maturity on boys older than her. "Well I'm glad I could be of service when it comes to your entertainment."

"What? No, no, you've misunderstood- no, I've expressed myself in a bad way," the boy held up his hands, coaxing as he took a step or two towards Caroline, "what I meant was I've been observing your beauty for a while now and you never seemed to cease to bore me, and when you came out that pond with that lovely frown on your face I just couldn't-"

"Okay, I got you, you meant no harm nor sarcasm! Will you please stop flattering and exaggerating!" Blushing, Caroline waved her hands in the air with pure embarrassment.

"I take it you don't get compliments very often, even though I was only pointing out the truth?" The boy grinned, obviously pleased with the effect he had on her.

Caroline shot him a hard look for sweet talking again, "people here don't talk that way." She gave his outfit a once over, confirming what she'd thought. The clothes the boy was wearing- although still plain and unadorned- was too expensive for villagers nearby to purchase, not that they were as fancy as the ones the rich people in that neighbor town wore.

"I travel a lot," the boy shrugged, "my father is a merchant."

Suddenly realized something from his previous words, she frowned the frown he liked again with her hands akimbo, "hey, have you been watching me for a long time?"

The boy nodded with a hint of guilt on his perfect face.

"Then why didn't you come to the poor bird's rescue in the first place? If you've been watching me you must have-" It was the boy's chuckle that stopped Caroline from her interrogation, "what? What's so funny?"

"I just confessed that I've been stalking you," a few more cackles escaped the fist that was trying so hard to cover the laugh, "and all you're worried about was why I hadn't got wet instead of you?"

Now that Caroline had long given up on hand-drying her dress already, she rolled her eyes and gestured between him and her, herself and the milk. "Hello, that was the main reason why now I'm in this horrible dilemma, torn between selling these milk wet or not sell it in time at all. Of course I cared."

"How about I make you a deal? You stay here and wait for your dress to dry while I go to the market and sell your dairy. I promise I'll be back before you miss me, then you sing me one of your lovely tunes to pay back."

"So you heard me sing? That was emba- What? I'm not going to miss you!"

"Sweetheart, although I do appreciate you being feisty and I love that you always focus on weird points, but do we have the deal or not?"

x

Just an hour later that afternoon, the boy had returned with a way more impressive amount of money with him. And when Caroline asked how he managed to get her product sold in such short period at such good price, he simply attributed it to the merchant genes that ran in his veins.

So in return, Caroline sang him a song and agreed to meet him there again the next day. Then on the next day, she agreed to a meeting the day after that. In time, they started meeting up at their secret base every day, and the blonde little girl's payback grew from one song in to two, two songs grew into chats about their lives or sometimes even water fights in their pond.

"Sing me one more song, Hummingbird," one day he paused abruptly in the middle of splashing water at her face, and Caroline remembered how she couldn't bring herself to care as long as she could hear him call her that nickname he used whenever he wanted her to sing, "sing me your favorite."

"Why should I? I've already sang you 3 today, and you haven't even help me sell the milk yet. Why don't we go sell it together this time? You never let me go with you," young Caroline straightened from the pond with a cocked eyebrow, suggesting.

And that was when Caroline saw those perfect pair of lips curl into the saddest smile she'd ever seen in her limited life, "because my father said we're leaving tomorrow?"

Splash. Splash.

Caroline started out of her dream, choking water out of her lungs. If she hadn't feel the filthy ground and the bruises on both her arms, she could've convinced herself she just woke up to another round of water fight against- what was his name? With an acute spike of headache she gave up trying to recall the name and the appearance of the older boy who left with his merchant father and never came back. Even though he promised he would, for her.

Not that Caroline was holding her breath and counting the days for his return- okay maybe she did in the beginning- but she, for once, believed that he was decent enough to keep his words. Well maybe he simply found a girl who sang better at his next stop, it didn't matter. She had soon recovered to her original boring life after realizing the emptiness in the promise and had never thought of her rare, once truly happy time since. She wondered why it came up to her now.

Probably because she was now to face her horrible doom, standing on a foreign land with people that had completely different hair and eyes and skin than what she was used to. When she first found about her parents' plan to trade her in order to support the expected newborn in the Forbes family, she had been devastated. She cried for days straight, the fact that she'd never be good enough for anyone- she doesn't even stand first place to her own parents- being cruelly rubbed into her face. Obviously, her emotional upset hadn't changed her parents' decision, so here she was, among about 30 other girls of all races, cramped in a dirty, damp dungeon. Even worse was that the man in front of her was going to spill another bucket of cold water at her, now.

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm awake, okay? Stop pouring, can't you see it's freezing today?" Caroline held up her hands in time to stop another water fall, gesturing while she spoke.

The man clearly understood what she meant and poured the water at the girl beside her instead, and he turned back to shout at her- of course, in a language she couldn't understand. When she realized he was repeating the same sentence at her angrier and angrier each time, he'd already started glaring at her.

"Okay, okay! Chill, mister. You don't have to loose temper just because I don't understand you," Caroline rambled to herself uselessly- it was not only pointless talking in English now but also pointless to try reasoning with a trafficker, she secretly contemplated- while looking around and found a small group of girls lining up at the door of the dungeon. She pointed at the line, "you want me to follow them?"

The man nodded as well as shot her a thank-god-she-finally-understood look and Caroline was glad to find that particular expression international while she did as she was told. After all, she didn't have much choice being sold as a product by her family. The fire in her had already taught her things the hard way on the cruise.

The girls were guided into separate bathing rooms with steaming hot water tubs and maids after they left the dungeon. Although a hot bath was exactly what she needed after a dizzy voyage full of puking and beating due to her being a rebel, she figured this whole ordeal was too luxurious for bought slaves, considering the bruises on her arms and the soreness on her back.

Still, she let the maid clean her with the rose pedal fragranced water in that huge tub. Just as her suspects were about to ebb and she was starting to enjoy being washed, the maid's movement suddenly stopped and she heard a plop.

She turned out of instinct and was stunned to find a… a person in weird, puffy, tribal costume made of all kinds of feather and animal fur staring back at her. Caroline had been frightened at the monstrous mask that the person wore, and was even more startled when her gaze lowered and saw the maid lying on the ground unconsciously.

She tried to scream but no matter how wide she opened her mouth, how hard she tried to stretch her vocal cords, she couldn't seem to make the slightest noise.

"You listen closely, young lady," the intruder patted her on the shoulder as Caroline brought her arms to her chest to at least provide some covering beside the transparent water, "I intend no harm, this I promise. But the situation's going to be very nasty if you scream, so I've temporarily locked your voice. If you promise not to raise attention, I shall give it back to you."

Caroline first frowned at the strange words she just heard. Did he or she- Caroline couldn't tell the gender by the neutral texture of the voice that was ringing in her head- just claimed that he/she took her voice? Was that even possible? Was this freak referring to magic then? Wait, did the voice just rang in her head directly instead of being heard through her ears?

"You know I can hear your thoughts at the same time, girl. So watch the language," the magical intruder stated, "and yes, I am a local shaman- you call us witches or warlocks where you're from- who is capable of multiple magic. Now will you cooperate with me and try not to cry for help when I suspend the silent spell? Don't you try playing smart on me, I assure you my magic ends people's lives before their rescue arrive."

Caroline nodded firmly albeit shaking a bit, and she soon found the invisible rock that was pressing against her throat disappear. "What the hell is this all about? First I got shipped to a creepy land and got locked in a creepy place where the man in charge speaks creepy language, then a creepy- no offense- shaman cuts in while I'm taking a bath?" She whispered even though the shaman could've heard her in her mind. She just needed the talking as an out for the stress.

"I am here to help you, at least to the utmost that I'm allowed to, Caroline." The shaman handed her a towel as she stepped out of the tub.

"And now you know my name? You've gone too far. Get out of my head!"

Annoyed, the shaman shook her head, "I wonder how he endured you like this, all talkative and feisty."

"He? Who's that? Do you know anyone that I know as well? Is that the one who sent you to help me? Oh,oh, are you getting me out of here?" Caroline's eyes sparkled with glitters of hope as she made herself comfortable on a wooden stool in the corner of the bathing room, wrapped in a piece of towel.

Bracing his/her head on one hand, the shaman sighed, "for gods' sake, if you'd only let me finish the sentence, you might not have so many questions to ask. Yes, I'm here to help you. No, no one send me to do so, I came here on my own will to pay my personal debts. But yes, you know the guy, though he has no idea you're here. No, I cannot tell you who he is. And no, I won't help you out of here. Or rather, I can't."

"What, so you're able to break in this spooky place and attack the maid to magic-talk with me in my head but you're not allowed to help me out? Does that even make sense?" Frustrated, Caroline practically growled.

"Calm down, Caroline. You don't know what bad situation you are in and you can really use my help." Ignoring the huff the blonde just let out, the shaman continued to explain, "do you remember saving a nestling from drowning when you were little? The bird's soul once helped me during its previous existence as a human girl, and my debt to her has since transferred to you. I can only help you to the amount that meets my debt for the bird's soul, no more, no less. If I do too much for you, helping you out for example, you're going to owe me and will have to pay for it one day. And considering your future, I don't think you want the trouble. That's how the karma, the transmigration works. What you do or owe follows you until you are paid or you pay. In short, I'm here to pay my helper back by helping you instead."

Taking in Caroline's jaw dropped state due to the information explosion, the shaman paused a little before going on, "you are bought by the Yang family of China. They bought dozens of girls for the master of the family to choose from. The chosen girl will be sent into the palace as one of the emperor's annual concubine. As for the ones that weren't chosen, they'll be distributed as the Yang men's mistresses, play things, sex slaves, or even worse, they'll be sold to the brothels. And my job is to help you avoid such doom. There's not much you can choose from, so the best I could do for you is to make you the chosen one and help you survive the bloodshed between jealous concubines in the palace."

Caroline blinked, mind racing miles a minute to digest what she'd just learned, "okay… so why do the Yangs suddenly want foreign girls for the emperor? I thought royalties despise mixed children with impure blood, or is that just an English thing?"

"You really have a habit of putting the wrong focus, he was right." The shaman chuckled, "I guess the discrimination against royal hybrids is a global thing, Caroline. But the Yangs are desperate, the master's son had just done something that angered the emperor and they need to get back in his favor as soon as possible. Plus, there are rumors that the emperors adore foreigners recently."

"And why is that?"

The shaman shrugged, "well, the emperor's current favorite minister is a foreigner. He wields enormous influence at court recently. Words are that the emperor blindly listens to basically everything Minister Mikaelson says, as if the minister himself was the emperor and not the other way around. And if a foreign concubine can somehow gain the emperor's favor or even grab the minister's attention, the Yangs can do whatever they want throughout China."

Okay so that was long for a prologue. Tell me if you like it and if I should continue! Your reviews fuel my typing fingers!

Just a quick note, in Tang dynasty China was quite open to outsiders due to its prosperous international trades through the silk road. Foreign prostitutes could be seen anywhere on the street and foreigners were even allowed to work as government employees as long as they give the emperor their loyalty.

I will soon present you the epilogue of Sunset, then the latest chapter of Beauty, so please be patient with me.

Love you as always,

-A XXxx