Full Summary:

What if for every Doppelganger, she was granted two allies that help protect her. A Bennet witch, and a warrior. Every time a Doppelganger is born, she will inevitably be reunited with her witch and her warrior, and the three of them fight to keep each other alive, through thick and thin. When Klaus killed his mother, Esther, and she went to the other side, she and a group of witches came up with a plan to help keep the Doppelganger safe. She would be surrounded by light. A witch to help her with any spells and a warrior to help her fight and keep fighting. It's all written in destiny, and nothing will tear these three apart.

Klaus, on the other hand, has no idea and is haunted by the warrior of the past, Caroline. He doesn't know that she will come back again with the next Doppelganger, Elena. What is he going to do when he is reunited with the one girl who was able to steal his heart?

-(1491)-

Klaus couldn't help it. This blonde woman standing before him, her hands on her hips as she studied him. She was a fiery one, as feisty as they came, and Klaus... Oh boy, did he ever enjoy it. She didn't throw herself at him like the other debutantes did. Nope. This one made him work for it, made him earn it, and it kept him wholly intrigued. "Sweet Caroline," he muttered, bending forward just a little bit and offering her a hand to take. "May I have the last dance?" he asked her, letting a charming smile spread across his lips.

He watched her for a moment, a few light, golden locks framing her face where they fell out of her updo, her pastel blue gown bringing out her azure eyes. He adored everything about her, and for him to say that, or even think it, was beyond him. He was supposed to be a vampire. An Original vampire, half werewolf, he wasn't supposed to feel for care about any one except himself. And of course, his family. However, this little slip of a girl, a human girl no less, had captured his attention like no other.

She regarded him carefully, her eyes searching his, her lips slightly pursed. She looked at him as if she was trying to pinpoint and find his ulterior motives, something she couldn't see unless she looked hard enough for it. He must have opened himself to her, revealing nothing but his want to dance, because she relaxed her features, her petite hand sliding into his. "Alright," she murmured back, just barely perceptible over the slow music coming from the orchestra.

He brought her hand up to his mouth, placing a chaste, but lingering kiss to the back of her knuckles, honored to be granted this chance to dance with her. "Thank you," he said, then led her to the ballroom floor, his free hand going to the middle of her back and he raised their joined hands to begin the dance.

As they began the steps, he looked down at his partner, his charming smile still in place. "You look ravishing tonight, love," he told her, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Stop calling me that," she hissed, then turned her face away, refusing to meet his gaze.

He let his lips turn down into a frown, tilting his head to the side as they continued to dance. He at least expected a thank you before her scathing remarks started. She was full of surprises, this one. "Call you what?"

"Love. I'm not your love, Niklaus. Never have been, never will be. And yet you still try. That, I'll never understand."

He let a small, modicum of anger flare up inside of him, his hand instinctively pulling her closer to his body. She couldn't know what he felt. He didn't even know what he felt. All he knew was that he wanted her to himself. He wanted to drink her in, make her his forever. He smiled when she let out a small gasp at their close proximity, her face turning to him incredulously. "Who told you otherwise?" he asked her, holding her tight in case she tried to bolt.

She did squirm a little, but then relented, her eyes flashing a deeper, more intense shade of blue as she realized she wouldn't be getting out of his grasp until he unhanded her himself. He'd come to recognize this, her eye color changing ever so slightly, as a sign of her rising anger, and he couldn't help but relish in it. After all, anger was better than no feeling at all.

"I loathe you," she said simply, then tried once more to pull away from him. "And you're being indecent. Let me go."

Klaus chuckled, holding her closer to his body still, his mouth dipping down until it was right next to her ear. "There's a fine line between love and hate, dear Caroline," he told her, then let her go. He had to, simply because this was the year 1491. If anyone thought he was getting too comfortable with the girl, they'd try and do something about it. Not that Klaus couldn't handle it, he was stronger, faster, more intelligent than any man in this room. He just didn't want to cause a scene. "Do remember that I'm a man of very high social and financial standing. When I want something, I get it. By any means necessary," he said, then reached down, taking her hand once more. He brought it up to his lips, placing another kiss against the back of her knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, love."

He watched as she stormed away from him, her heels clicking against the ballroom floor as she made her way back to where she was before, in front of a semi-circle of suitors. He took a glass of wine off one of the servants trays as they walked by, and sipped it as he watched her. He was going to have her, and nothing was going to stop him. He'd have her and her doppelganger friend, Katerina. Both for entirely different purposes.

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Caroline couldn't help her anger as she stormed off, her anger toward the other man etching a scowl on her face. She tried to ignore the way her skin tingled where his hands touched her, the way his compliment managed to make her stomach flutter and the way he danced them so eloquently along the floor. It was like this man was too good at everything he set his mind on doing, and it only served to infuriate her more.

She passed right by the previous group of men that were waiting for her return, and simply went straight up to her room to begin undressing. That was the last dance anyway, no one needed her to stick around any more. She hated balls as it was. They were tedious and mind-numbing. Niklaus Mikaelson was always there, too. Waiting, watching her, planning when he could talk to her again, try to get into her good graces.

She hated that about him, he never seemed to give up on her, despite how often she tried to turn him away. A part of her didn't want anything to do with him, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was something about him that wasn't good. She could feel it in her bones. She didn't know just what it was, but she knew. The other part of her couldn't help but be attracted to him. His curly, light brown hair, his pillow like lips, his devilish smile, that sultry accent that was so different from her own. He was charming as well, though he often scared her with his intensity. He was sexy, and what was worse was he knew he was.

Besides her attraction for him, he and his brother, Elijah, had also showed quite the interest in her friend Katerina, and Caroline would never, ever settle for being someone's second choice. That thought alone made her want to shoot him down in any of his requests.

She thought about the events that had just transpired as she took her shoes off, unable to hold back a cringe at his term of endearment. Sweet Caroline. She'd never been sweet to him, she didn't understand why he tried so hard when he also sought after Katerina, and yet he still fancied her. It both amused her and angered her all at once, which was wholly confusing to her. One man, a man she felt like she hated shouldn't be able to invoke this much emotion within her, and yet there she was, alone in her room, all but tearing her dress off her body in her haste to go to bed and forget about him.

He always seemed to suck her in though, make her drop her guard for a split second, only to say something wretched and make her steam with indignant anger. He wouldn't have her. He'd never have her. She'd make sure of it. What Klaus didn't know what that she too, was a woman of high social and financial standing. Despite her young age of only seventeen, the perfect age for her father to be trading her off into a marriage filled with promise of more wealth, she was a daddy's girl. She too, got what she wanted.

What she wanted right now, was to put Niklaus Mikaelson in his place.

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Hey, whoever decides to read this! This is my first fic, so I was wondering if I should continue it or not. I'm still undecided, I don't find myself to be a very good writer, but if enough people show interest in it, I might continue it. This is an Idea I've had for a while, and I haven't seen it in any of the fics I've read, so I decided to try to write it, see how it goes. I know it's odd that Caroline is in 1942 and friends with Katerina pre-vampireness, but it will all become very clear soon. It's going to be a long fic, so I hope you're in for the long haul!

Reviews? I'll accept praise or constructive critisism. If it's horrible, tell me so that I know and I can delete it and either try something else or stick to only reading.

Thank you!

-Beloved in Blood