Written for garglyswoof for the kc sweet swap
It was a perfect Monday, the day everything began - ended - blew up in epic proportions. She'd been planning it since forever, the beginning of her junior year, when she could finally, finally, become seventeen in a few months so she could move on to eighteen instead.
She hated filler years.
Her three-inch ankle-strap pumps clicked on the sidewalk as she trotted on, too excited to drive safely. Her mother had taken one look at her in the morning - a rare occasion when she was actually home - and refused to give her the keys to the car.
Really, it just gave her more of a headspace to review her plans for this year's cheerleading routine, the decade dances for both junior and senior years, and her future resume for the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant - which she'll win, so help her.
The long walk had her start wondering about her college years, for which she was vaguely excited but not as much as junior year, of course.
Let it never be said she failed at compartmentalizing.
A sting sprang up her neck, rapidly swelling into agonizing pain. She screamed, high-pitched and frightened and trying in vain to move her arm so she could reach her nape, but she failed, becoming numb, her vision hazy-edged as she felt her body crash towards the asphalt.
Later, when she laid sprawled in a dark, dirty cell - her cell, her captors said - too fatigued and head too heavy to even consider lifting it, she blamed her situation on the fact that the next day was a Tuesday.
She woke up from her nightmare with a startled gasp, a fine layer of sweat coating her skin, her legs tangled among her sheets and hair damp and in disarray.
The mattress was uncomfortably hot against her back, and it made her feel suffocated. Still, she tried to get back to sleep, wanting the occasional sweet reprieve from her memories that never really went away no matter how hard she busied herself with things to do or research to continue.
It was after midnight here in her small flat in Reykjavik; the chill was apparent to her Virginian-born skin, even after all these years, and shivered more out of muscle memory than anything else.
Begrudgingly making peace with her escaped rest, she stepped out to the balcony, the view of Mount Esja a sight that never failed to leave her in awe.
And never failed to leave her at peace either.
She loved that mountain, possibly with more amount than should be given to a volcanic mountain range, but alas.
Climbing it for the first time had been a challenge she'd set for herself; 914 meters weren't a hindrance to her vampire speed and strength, but she'd arrived in Iceland with too many terrors that reaching the top felt like a defiant declaration.
Caroline wrapped her fluffy winter jacket around her more tightly, loving the warmth it gave off. It had been a particularly hard day, the wind harsher than it usually was. It made her long for a cup of warm chocolate, a plate of s'mores with fire-roasted marshmallows melting between the graham crackers, thick with sweetness.
She shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts, a wisp of hair escaping from the loose bun she'd woven it into, rubbing her hands together.
The view from where she stood was lovely, and she cracked a small smile at the band of high school boys making hilariously bad jokes and high-fiving at outwitting each other with all the charm that sixteen year olds were capable of.
Which was - admittedly - not much.
Still, she appreciated their efforts and their dedication to the cause. Especially when war had been bashing its heel through everyone's front step for a good ten years without a single care.
An hour passed before she decided to retire, hoping that the sheets had cooled enough that she could sleep again. Maybe she'd get lucky, and they'd be cold, which made for the best kind of sleep.
But, before she could even take a step in the direction of her comfortable bed, a knock sounded on the door. She ignored it, having no desire for a pesky neighbour or whoever it was.
The unwanted visitor didn't share her sentiment; knocking and knocking and knocking until she feared for the door.
When she opened it, she had ten things to say on the tip of her tongue, ranging from a refined "What. The. Fuck?" to a creative assortment of Icelandic insults she'd accumulated during her stay.
Her reaction varied off-course entirely, too thrown off by the twenty-something looking man at her door, the way he carried himself in a non-threatening manner - that she easily recognized as dangerous - coupled with a big fat 'don't approach' vibe, the bat in his hand only a strange addition.
He smelled old, the magic in his bones ancient.
She didn't like him one bit.
"You know, darling; it's in poor manners to keep someone waiting," he said, tongue curling around the words with a distinctive British accent.
Caroline glared, much as her instincts screamed at her not to. She survived because of them, true, but she held no tolerance for cocky, annoying vampires, no matter how old they were.
She also happened to have survived much worse, which was sure to give a girl a sufficient ego boost.
"You're a bit testy, aren't you, little one?"
Barely reigning in her teeth, she moved backwards to shut the door in his face, already plotting her escape.
The vervain grenade she had installed above her flat's entrance in case this exact situation happened would do nicely; it was made by her hands, concentrated until the tiniest whiff of it would cause agonizing pain. This vampire, whoever he was, would be too preoccupied to even think of following her.
And the transport she had secured when she first moved to Reykjavik should do the rest of the job.
Another voice entirely stopped her, because just her luck that she got to be cornered on the day she had that particular nightmare - her least favourite one of the bunch, ranked by date and events involved since she was nothing if not methodical.
"Stop playing with your food, Kol," that voice, another man, said as he stepped out of the shadow, his footsteps nonexistent as he smoothly slid in front of the other, blocking her view.
He smirked at her, something feral in his eyes as his gaze slid over her figure.
"Apologies for the fright, love, but, truth be told, we really didn't have the time frame for organising a meeting; we had to be here posthaste."
It was admittedly a struggle to make herself reply, the magic she felt coming from him — stronger than that of his annoying companion — clawing at something inside of her, the part that had screamed for mercy and then feasted on the witches without regards.
"I fail to see why we'd have any reason to meet at all, truth be told ." Her tone was mocking, dry, and nearly vicious.
But that man, simply smiled. Alarm prickled at her skin.
"Really, Lamia? I thought you'd be smarter than that?"
She didn't exactly get a chance to reply, not to the veiled threat nor to the title he called her by. How did he know it? she wondered in that faint mockery of a second before the other man's bat collided with her head in a painful crunch, a satisfied grin on his face.
The annoying bastard, he probably enjoyed it.
She woke up, and it was incredibly uncomfortable, yet much more accommodating than the first time she'd ever been kidnapped. Her neck felt sore, her head by far worst, and she felt like she could still hear the crunching of her bones in her mind .
It took her a minute to regain her bearings and glance around, marveling at the well-furnished room and its fabulous carpets, one or two that she might've eyed at an online store, the curtains that were draped neatly, allowing the perfect amount of sunlight without it being so much.
She was honestly a bit jealous.
Just a tiny bit.
Caroline was not the least bit surprised that her door snapped open at that moment, had made peace with the fact that all supernatural beings seemed to have a built-in warning signal for when their prisoners were awake.
Why that trait seemed to skip her was beyond her grasp.
It was kind of insulting, honestly.
What was surprising was the sight of maid in her mid-twenties, black dress and white apron ironed to perfection, the shoes shining with polish, carrying a tray that was filled with a sweet aroma that smelled suspiciously like chocolate mousse and a blood bag.
This had to be one of her more luxurious kidnappings, that's for sure.
"Prendre plaisir, mademoiselle," the maid said, French accent perfect. The brunette laid the tray on her nightstand before hastily leaving.
Caroline took a peek at the tray, her mouth watering at the dessert, its chocolate scent just the right amount of mouth watering, and checked out the blood bag, feeling reluctantly impressed that it was B positive.
Sighing with frustration, she picked out the plate and the silver fork, deciding that it would be just rude to bail on her very hospitable snatchers without giving them a well-earned A plus for effort.
The mousse was delicious.
The lack of a lock made her concerned when she tried the door; the simple fact was you only let your hostages have free rein either when you were stupid or sure of an unrefusable bargaining chip.
And based on the cleverness that shone in the eyes of her captors, she was willing to bet all of her fortune that it was furthest thing from the former.
Much as she detested to admit it, she was freaking out.
Breathing to calm her nerves, she took a step outside the perimeters of the room.
She heard the snap of a cord, didn't even get the chance to scream or run, a large cylindrical shaped metal trap falling around her, its hoops not completely isolating her view but by no means dissuaded from its efficiency in keeping her confined.
Fuck.
"Going somewhere, love?"
This time, it wasn't the poor imitation of Harley Quinn that startled her — and she said poor because no-one could do a proper bat-wielding, shit-eating, maniac grin like her idol could — but the other who made her a little light-headed with his ancient magic.
Caroline didn't bother to reply, moving to push at the iron, even though a logical part of her understood the impossibility, panic setting in and driving her instinct.
Her hands were propelled backwards by an unseen force, and she swore as she landed on her backside, the hardwood digging in her skin.
Fucking magic.
"Are you interested to listen then, Lamia?"
She hissed at the title, her skin bristling with anger.
"Or," he said, walking towards her until he stood near her cage, bending at his knees, his feet carrying his weight as he crouched to her height. "Maybe you'd prefer Succo? I didn't really manage to get your preference."
Rolling her eyes, because really, the whole ancient creatures trying to scare her by digging at where she tended to be most sensitive emotionally routine was getting seriously old. Even if it was quite effective.
"Let me out,"she told him flatly.
"No can do, darling." And there came the Harley Quinn wannabe, and yes, he had the bat.
The thing had to be really sturdy, she mused as she eyed it, to be able to withstand colliding with a vampire's skull and survive intact.
Or maybe the man had an entire closet dedicated to a collection of similar wooden bats for fun.
Who really knew with these psychos.
"Should we let her out to chat?" The bat-wielding skull-wrecker, the younger of the two she noticed, asked, the broad smile on his face making sure that actual chatting was the furthest thing on his mind.
"Oh my god, please don't tell me you maimed the vampire already," a female voice interrupted, footsteps hard on the stairs, the pattern and the presence of a heartbeat so distinguishably human. Caroline's head turned towards the sound, something about it vaguely familiar.
Skull-wrecker snorted indignantly, "I'll have you know, darling, she's in perfect health, thank you very much."
Caroline shot him with a flat look. Because seriously?
"Yeah, I am sure," came the doubtful response.
She sighed resignedly; either this day was going to get bloody, or she'd be forced to spend it in this less-than-stellar cage, neither of which she was particularly thrilled for.
The stomp of whoever coming up were loud, and nagged at her ears. It made for a mystery however; old vampires weren't overly fond of willful humans as temporary amusements, preferring to turn them if they held their interest for longer. So why was such an outspoken human roaming the halls?
"Caroline?"
Her head snapped up at her name, fear coating her insides at the thought of having her history dug up - more than it obviously had that is - before she froze.
She may have forgotten the sound of her voice but that face haunted her nightmares often.
"Bonnie," she breathed, her best friend's face shell-shocked.
She couldn't say she didn't feel the same.
Seeing Bonnie again was something Caroline had given up hope on after she escaped, didn't think of beyond her fantasies and memories that she recalled from her teenage years: cheerleading practice, sleepovers and pillow fights.
She had been on the run, and to so much as step into Virginia, much less Mystic Falls, would be signing everyone's death warrant.
Yet, her childhood best friend was standing in front of her in the flesh, her face young but not seventeen — more in the early twenties she guessed — her hair in shoulder-length curls.
And the magic... Bonnie was a witch, of that there was no doubt, and Caroline didn't know how to react.
Her monster wanted to rip Bonnie apart, the mere thought of chains sending her into overdrive. She did not believe that it was really her friend, and who was to say it wasn't a mirage to lull her into a false sense of security so that they could take from her what they wanted?
Bonnie came closer but still remained far enough from her cage, throat muscles swallowing nervously.
"You know each other?" Skull-wrecker asked gleefully, startling Caroline.
For a second, she had almost forgotten about the other two people present, and she cursed at her mistake.
"Obviously," she remarked, moving to sit cross-legged. Might as well get comfortable.
"Cheeky," the other man reprimanded her lightly, smirking. It took all of her willpower not to stick her tongue out at him, or do something that would get her killed, temporary as it may be.
"Who are you people?" She turned her head from one side to the other.
"Oh, right, we skipped the introductions. I'm Kol, and this is Nik, my brother, though I suppose to you he's Klaus."
A chill racked through her body; those names, she knew those names, heard them whispered after her sessions were finished between Latin mutterings and casted spells, often along with three others. Finn, Elijah and Rebekah.
The witches had called them the Originals, had laughed at her the one time she'd gathered enough strength to ask about them before shoving a wooden stake through her thigh and slashing it through her skin and bone.
She had learned not to ask, taught herself how to listen instead.
And she was an excellent listener.
"Care to let me out?" Caroline spoke tightly. The one who she presumed to be Klaus laughed amusedly.
"Where are my manners, of course."
He bent to curl his finger through the lower hoops, and lifted the metal effortlessly, sending the cage flying deeper into the hallways, no doubt to be cleared by the help.
And, just like that, she was free.
She allowed herself exactly one second to breathe in that feeling, to settle down her monster from lunging, and then snapped herself back into alertness.
"Come on," Bonnie said, extending a hand and pulling her up, not noticing the way her body tensed at the unexpected touch.
How it made her mind flash briefly to hot scorching iron dipped on flesh.
"So you want my help?" she asked, more for show than anything else, not at all surprised by the conversation she'd just taken a part in. She'd prepared for this possibility ever since she became aware of what she was.
Klaus chuckled; the sound had a hint of darkness that was filled with too many warnings for anyone with a wish to survive to ignore.
"Help is a bit presumptuous, love. You have information that I find myself in need of; unfortunately, your rather meddlesome history ensures that methods of torture would take far more time than I could spare to prove to be effective. Thus, negotiations it is then."
She eyed him in disbelief; he was going to blame her for being kidnapped.
Seriously?
"I still can't believe you're one of those vampires," Bonnie muttered under her breath.
Caroline smiled sadly at her friend, ignored the sting of how the word 'those' was uttered. "Well, it's not like I disappeared on the first day of junior year for cheeseburgers. It's not really that big of a stretch if you think about it."
Bonnie winced.
Klaus stood up from where he was perched on an armchair. "Well, now that we've exhausted all the meaningless chit chat, you all should pack; we have places to be, a tombstone to track, and a two-millennia old immortal to kill."
With a significant glance at her, he sped out of the room.
Kol stood as well, hands tugging at Bonnie's until she followed his motion.
"Pack light, darling. We are going to Alexandria."
She watched them go as she ran a hand over her hair.
Pack light, Kol had said. Except she didn't have anything to take to begin with, and she most certainly did not want to go anywhere.
What they wanted of her, the things they wanted to know, she had spent too long hiding to so freely give away. She had decided long ago that she wasn't stepping into the war the world has found itself in with Silas, had made peace with the fact that, should she ever be found, she'd take her secrets with her to the grave.
Even if graves were no longer a commodity. Silas and his plight to destroy the Other Side had robbed her of that too.
Caroline sighed and pulled at her hair, letting the pain ground her to reality as she attempted to make a plan.
The reality was she was going to be dragged into this war, was likely to find herself knee-deep with the Originals, whether she wanted to or not.
It was the simple side effect of the witches' work, of being the foundation for Silas' reign.
Oh, how she despised them.
The first morning she'd woken in her cell, she'd been hungry and filthy, dust matting her cheeks and hair, her pumps snapped at the heel. Drowsy and nauseous, terror had been a permanent taste on her tongue.
A strange women had entered, her hair auburn red with some strands woven in braids and laced with beads. She resembled some of the photos Caroline had seen of Coachella, and it was that thought that made laughter threaten to bubble out of her throat.
But the woman did not pay her any attention, instead touching her cheeks with a softness that made her flinch.
"Oh yes, you'll be perfect for my lord."
Caroline had pushed her body away from the uncomfortable touch hastily. That had been her first mistake.
And she'd paid for with it with blood and screams.
Alexandria was beautiful .
There was simply no other way to describe it. Even the view from the private jet was breathtaking. The way the modern architecture blended in with the local history, the hints of European culture that she was familiar with and yet something that was entirely different too.
The smell of the sea was familiar and yet not, heat and sunshine replacing the cold of the North Atlantic.
Something giddy uncurled inside her at the sight of glittering blue water just in front of her as their car made its way through the Corniche, historical sights passing her by.
She would never forget this, she knew as the Bibliotheca Alexandrina came in sight, and a part of her was glad for that. The beauty she saw in front of her was meant to be remembered and treasured.
Feeling eyes on her, she turned her head into their direction and met the cornflower blue of Klaus's at the rear-view mirror in the brief minute where traffic was packed. He was entirely comfortable in the way he gripped the steering wheel, how he moved between the cars.
They held each other's stare in those minuscule seconds, a brief battle of wills or a secret message being passed between them, she wasn't sure.
When the traffic lights signaled green, they quietly returned back to what they were doing before, him driving them to where they'd be staying, a grand hotel encompassing a part of the sea view. She took it all in.
Caroline was in heaven; the mattress was soft, and the sunlight peeked into the hotel room just the perfect amount. With the low sound of waves crashing in her ears, she was lulled to a comfortable light sleep.
Until, of course, a pillow sailed right in her face, surprising her with the unexpected weight. A shriek was barely contained in her throat, and she gripped the pillow away to snarl at whoever dared disrupt her.
"Rise and shine, darling."
Kol's smirking face reawakened her murderous urges with a vengeance. She briefly pondered the possibility of snapping his neck before deciding that really, all that would accomplish would be her subsequent murder.
"Kol, leave her alone," Bonnie said from the door, frowning disapprovingly.
If anything, that statement rackled her further. Really, 'leave her alone', had Bonnie forgotten her bitch-handling capabilities that quickly?
"But Bon-Bon, it's so fun."
"Enough with your childishness, Kol," Klaus spoke lowly, but there was an authoritativeness to his voice that made the other vampire concede.
He turned to her, his gaze hard and demanding.
"Come on, love," he said, gesturing towards her. She raised an eyebrow questioningly in return, not budging.
"Unless you'd prefer the company of my wayward brother..." he trailed off and walked towards the door of the suite.
Caroline huffed in irritation but reluctantly followed.
The silver lining, she supposed, was that whatever the vampire had in mind couldn't possibly be worse than the years of torture and experimentation she'd endured.
Possibly.
She turned out to be right in her assessment in quite an unexpected way.
Instead of a bloody interrogation - which she'd three hundred percent expected regardless of pretty words about negotiations - or tracking down a useful lead to the tombstone or even a mutual feeding session - the most pleasant of all three option if she may say so herself - Klaus took her on a stroll across the coast.
She was utterly pleased by that, soaking it all in, the lines of people laughing as they sat on the stone wall separating the sea and the hints of beach sand from the cemented streets: families laughing with their children, friends taking selfies and couples taking with their heads bent low, some with the shy smiles of new lovers and others with their age in their eyes a testament to how they stood together through it all.
Thoughts of mystical war, blood and torture didn't spontaneously disappear when faced with these images like she used to read in her old fiction books whose names she'd forgotten; when a heroine's worries faded in light of the happiness she faced.
She didn't think that was possible for her.
Caroline saw the signs that these humans chose not to pay attention to in these few hours for a respite: the wary glances shot every once in awhile by someone too tense to relax, the officers standing on high roofs and the ones disguised as civilians in the balconies. The others with their black uniform for all to see harbouring a regular gun for law enforcement and a stash of wooden and silver bullets for the more supernatural ones, vervain supplements for any who'd need it.
If she were any nicer, any human , she'd point out that huge amounts of money would be spared if the governments simply chose to discard the lead bullets and stick to the wood and silver. Human skin was human skin no matter what you shot it with.
As it was, she only watched the sharp eyes scanning the crowds for an aggressive werewolf, a vampire's fangs in a warm neck, a witch's spell enchanting the crowds. She watched it all.
But the clouds… God, they set her teeth on edge.
Nearing midday, their colour turned into blood red and angry violet, she hadn't seen them in Iceland, had lived with the terror they brought her while hiding in Greece, hungry for information about the years she'd endured.
And seeing them now was bringing up more memories to the forefront than she was comfortable with.
Still, she didn't tense, kept her muscles lax as if she really were a tourist enjoying her time.
Pearls of laughter echoed in the air, a group of young adults shouting loudly and drawing the attention of those around them. Caroline stopped walking, laughing in surprise when one of the men pulled an Egyptian tabla from behind him, her actions paralleled by his friend, the ends of her hijab fluttering wildly in the wind. She felt Klaus do the same as her, only with more standing and far less chucking, face stoic and expression neutral.
The young man began playing the instrument with great skill and the smooth snapping of his fingers on the rounded surface reduced the crowds to rhythmic clapping.
Watching this scene, filled with a sudden determination, Caroline made a resolution.
One day she'll be like these people.
One day, she will learn how to laugh so easily with war on her doorsteps.
One day.
It had been days and days since she saw home. Two horrible, frightening months in which the smell of blood - hers or other's - had become as familiar to her as air.
She had been tied with chains that lifted her body vertically, toes barely brushing the floor. The ground was dirty with gore and blood and she shuddered a breath in, throat parched for water she knew wouldn't come - not right now.
The auburn-haired witch - Eudora, she'd called herself - approached her with a damp clothes in hand, dabbing it at her sweat-slick skin, humming under her breath.
Caroline hated her. Hated the lessons she was given on the best methods of coercion, the weakest organs for torture, how to rip out a heart.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, aware that a lash or a curse was heading her way - because guess what magic does exist and it feels terrible.
But Eudora only smiled, petting her hair soothingly, lent closer as if to whisper a dark secret.
"I am making you into something new."
These words made something that felt like ash settle on her tongue."What?"
"A vampire. Only that's not what we shall call you, not after those cheap imitations of my master. Succo, or Lamia maybe, yes much more fitting. Something ancient and strong, only the best for my lord."
The once tender touches of the cotton turned scalding with harsh movements but the discomfort of it was a dull thing to her nerves.
"You'll be the monster monsters fear, Caroline, I promise."
Caroline whimpered when the cloth aggravated an open gash and wondered, could she be this witch's?
The sight of the seaside restaurant as the target location for the unexpected endeavour, was quite a shock.
That Klaus led her inside with a hand at her back and a charming smile that made her body prickle with awareness. The table he chose for the both of them was close to a window giving her an opportunity to enjoy the view as much as she wished.
Her stomach tightened at the thought of Klaus knowing such a simple joy of hers, she knew he'd observed her, for bait, for leverage, for torture but had wanted to believe that perhaps she hid her personal intimacies well. Proof of the contrary let a sour taste in her mouth and a desire to escape.
She'd never make it, of course. He was old and she was but a child to him.
Her hands twitched for the culinary she knew was out of reach, for the smallest hint of defense.
A waiter came to greet them, his English laced with hints of accent she heard from the local, switching to his native tongue with a brief bout of surprise when Klaus spoke in flawless Arabic.
Both jealousy and alarm fitted through her and she breathed deeply at another reminder of her vulnerability.
In a foreign country and not a single clue about the language beyond a crooked 'alsalam ealaykum'.
Just great.
As she read the menu in her hands, she felt her eyebrows rise higher and higher. "You're taking me out forfish? " She questioned incredulously, the shock catching up with her.
"Surprised, sweetheart?" His smirk was a touch too smug.
"By your negotiation methods, that's for sure." Yet, she couldn't exactly deny how the thought was entirely too appealing for her, how her mouth watered at the faint aroma of the restaurant.
"Well the Egyptians do believe in the power of meals in cementing associations." He told before ordering their dishes to the waiter who wrote it down speedily and took their menu with a quick promise of having it completed in thirty minutes.
"Getting into the spirits then, I see." She said dryly.
She got nothing in reply but a delighted chuckle.
"So we'll go to the Citadel tomorrow?"
Klaus eyes darkened with warning.
Her lips pulled into a charming smile, "I just wanna make sure to charge my camera if we do, think of all the pictures!" she said in such a tourist voice, she almost convinced herself.
A girl and a boy from a table over, no more than eight, looked at her with wonder. She heard them whispering to each other furiously, pointing at her and exclaiming.
"They're both excited over the fact that you're not a local and that you're rather beautiful," Klaus translated the words for her.
She smiled softly, caught the girl's eye and winked conspiratorially. The girl blushed bright red as did the boy. They smiled at her.
Caroline fidgeted with the threads of the tablecloth as she took another peek at the restaurant, it was inviting and well-furnished, spacey as well. The mahogany furniture were tasteful, the walls coated with a calming peach colour, with seashell decorations lining the walls that managed the feat of not being tacky.
Noticeable details but they didn't hold her interests for long and she found herself gazing out of the near window taking in the sea and the peak of land she saw.
Her eye caught the Bibliotheca and she bit her lip.
"Have you ever been to the new library?" she asked.
She returned her attentions towards Klaus, who was for the most part silent and assessing as she explored her surroundings.
He bent his head to the side. She knew he was aware of what she was doing.
"No. I never got the chance to."
"It's very beautiful."
"Yet, the wealth of its knowledge would never even think to compare to that of its predecessor."
She looped a stray string of the tablecloth around her fingers. "I thought the old library was burnt down?"
"Part of it was, in 48 BC yet there were tales of the rest of the building surviving for another two centuries before it was damaged during a rebellion that happened between 270 and 275 AD."
She drank what Klaus was telling her rapturously; with the last days being spent between airplanes and hotels and planning she'd not had the chance to browse Wikipedia for any info and her ignorance was nagging at her.
Caroline did not have a chance to ask any of her bubbling question as the food arrived and she got busy with the heady smell the dishes were emanating, her stomach grumbling.
Klaus shot her an amused look at her eagerness but she ignored him completely as she dug into the meal.
Goodness, the fish was amazing .
The sun was hot and bright on her skin, a brief breeze blowing. She watched the groups of tourists as they walked the Citadel grounds from behind her sunglasses. Security was placed strategically in every corner and some part of her fretted over something going awry.
Her backpack was slung across her shoulders and she drummed her fingers against her arm erratically.
She sighed.
Bonnie came from behind her, "Brighten up, you look like you'll start setting fire to the place any second."
She had been contemplating that.
"Please do, little Caroline. This is a very dreary place."
Bonnie fixed Kol with a flat glare. "So sorry they couldn't fit in a DJ while they were building a medieval defensive fortress. I will tell them to put that in mind when they're building the next one."
"Good, you should," Kol said with ease.
Caroline eyed the pair attentively.
She sensed Klaus coming towards them and straightened, hopefully they'll get on with it soon because she was getting immensely tired of doing nothing but just waiting around.
"Is there any reason we're still waiting? Oh, please tell me your witch is late, I'll eat her."
Bonnie made a distressed noise at the back of her throat and Kol turned his head towards her, "no offence, darling."
Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"We're waiting for the rest of the entourage." Klaus did not seem pleased by the predicament and she frowned, concerned about what that could possibly mean, heart slowly but surely sinking in her throat.
"Oh joy, Bekah and Elijah are here," Kol spoke, sounding the furthest from excited, eyes focused on a group that consisted of two people together, the blonde with wavy hair and bright plum lipstick and the distinctive dolce and Gabbana pumps, along with the brown-haired man in the Burberry suit were sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of the moderately dressed people.
Klaus growled, "Behave brother."
The blonde strode over to them with an audible click to her shoes and an irritated expression to boot. "This place is utterly insufferable."
"Hello to you too, Bekah."
Burberry suit joined in, "A little more respect if you will Rebekah, the citadel is half as old as you are."
The way he spoke so freely of their age made her wonder if she knew how many would positively slaughter to have the ability to drop hints of who they are without fearing being killed.
Klaus stepped between his siblings with impatience, "Enough."
Rebekah huffed as she looked away, Kol stifled a laugh at the face she made and Elijah adjusted his cufflinks.
They followed Klaus at his whispered command and made their way to what used to be the dungeons, where the crowds were non-existent save for the lone thirty-looking woman with a floral print veil tied around her head and the smell of magic that she knew by heart.
Instinctively she searched for exists.
The witch only had eyes for Klaus as she murmured Sayiddi, and Caroline watched in fascination at the display of the supernatural world's hierarchy.
The blonde original who she heard about so much in scorned whispers as much as she did her brothers smiled at Bonnie in a vicious manner as she faux innocently whispered, "I didn't see you there Bonnie, when did you get here?"
Bonnie's look was unimpressed.
Rebekah suddenly gasped loudly and everyone turned to her with alarm. "Oh dear, I've forgotten my package in the car." And hastily turned around before anyone could reprimand her. "I'll be back quickly."
Caroline dared a look at Klaus, saw a smug smirk instead of anger or annoyance and felt her dread bloom further.
Rebekah appeared so fast even her heightened sight couldn't catch her, flashing with vampire speed and dropping a body at her feet with a thud.
"Delivery," she said sardonically, kicking the figure until it rolled on its back, so that Caroline could see who they were.
Her blood drained from her face as she did.
Oh god.
Enzo .
They'd walked for hours.
The tunnels under the dungeons were dark and narrow, wide enough for two to walk side by side. She'd felt suffocated, despite her lack of need for air, and all she'd wanted was to smash through the stone and be free.
Sensing the way her muscles tensed, Enzo squeezed her shoulders in comfort.
Her jaws locked at the reminder that he was here. If there was one person from those who suffered at the hands of the witches that she didn't want dragged into this mess it was him. Six decades of torture at the hands of human scientists then one more were far enough in her opinion. To top it with being used as a bargaining chip by a bunch of ancient megalomaniac vampires was the start to a very tasteless joke.
Kol whistled as he stepped over the entrance and when she stepped inside the famed believed to be non-existent library she understood the fascinated action.
The ground was polished with cobbled marble and granite, there were four pillars with hieroglyphics carved into its stone and she spotted the odd statue of an Egyptian phoenix made from what she suspected to be gold and rubies. The place looked like the Egyptian temples she used to see in movies only it seemed like it was still how it were a thousand of years before.
It looked every bit like a buried treasure trove should but a bit more than that too. Bonnie had spoken of how witches of the old world had used the library as a safe for all their knowledge and research, a supernatural version of the human one. They'd hidden it with enchantments and spells, made it their temple. Kol had explained that they would collect the most valuable of grimoires and scrolls and put it to be kept in the library while copies were made and given to the original owners.
Witch folk had looked at the library with reverence from the beginning of its creation and it seemed Qetsiyah was no exception to the rule. She had a feeling that the Grecian had laughed with glee as she put her tombstone in the library, a vindictive pleasure coursing through her at the fact that what doomed her would-have-been lover was to be her legacy.
She sighed; people and their petty desires.
"I have stabilized any hints of old spells or curses, you should be able to roam freely as you wish," the witch said, her eyes misty before they cleared.
The witch left at the sharp nod from Klaus. Caroline watched him, weariness in her bones at how easily he commanded that women but she forced herself to swallow, blinked to banish these thoughts.
"We'll have to form groups so that we can cover the four corners," Kol said.
Caroline saw no fault with that, grabbing Enzo's hand so that the could start with the right corner. Rebekah flashed in front of them, clicking her tongue as she shook her index at them both.
"Ah, ah, ah. You two are going to switch partners."
Enzo smiled flirtingly, "Is this your ploy to get me alone?"
Rebekah raised a haughty brow, scoffing.
She felt a weight on the low of her back, resisted her desire to rip the hand that resisted there. Klaus leaned closer to her ear, whispering in a mockingly calm tone.
"Come on, love. You can chat later."
Caroline wanted to snarl at him.
She shrugged his hand and strode forward, seething all the while at the amusement she knew he wore so casually. He followed in a more leisurely pace, his features probably pulled into that infuriating smirk of his.
Fingers suddenly pulling at her arm, she was forced to halt and turn around, coming face to face with his curious, hungry expression.
"Why so angry sweetheart?" he rubbed his thumb along her arm. A faint warmth spread across her skin.
"I don't like it when my friends are used against me," her voice was but a whisper but she could feel the weight these words carried echoing through her. Enzo would have been safe had it not been for his connections to her.
As safe as someone in his position could be that is.
Klaus chuckled. "Well, you did not seem so close as you implied, if I may say so. Where did Rebekah find him? Uh, yes, Brazil."
She didn't bother to dignify that with an answer, didn't even want to. Who was this creature to presume about who she was and what made her life and the people in it.
He tilted his head, a silent challenge. But if Klaus was waiting for an opponent for the games he played as a temporary amusement, then she would be more than willing to disappoint him.
"Don't we have a tombstone to find?" she smiled tightly, nails digging into her palm.
It took them hours to finish scouring the library, leaving no stone unturned as they looked through scrolls and papyrus for any clue where the tombstone was. Kol had tried to translate some of the hieroglyphics, joking about his "Egyptian phase" and nudging Bonnie's shoulders with his. He had frowned when all he had gotten was a stiff nod.
She had tried not to feel pleased that maybe someone did have her back after all.
Rebekah sighed as she flicked her perfect wavy hair behind her shoulder, "This is useless."
She was inclined to agree.
"Not at all," Klaus said as he walked to the center of the grand hall. He was pondering the floor inscriptions with thoughtful speculation.
"Perhaps we are just searching on the wrong floor."
Everyone's eyes shone with a newfound gleam and they went rounds again, Klaus staying within distance as they touched anything that looked like it could be a lever for a secret door.
She spread her senses wide, kept her eye on Enzo and Bonnie out of the corner of her eye, inspecting the statues as she went. A sudden noise of stone and gravel as they rubbed against each other filled the area.
"I found it," Elijah called out.
They flashed back to their starting point, saw the dip where the stairs opened for a buried room. Her entire being stood on edge with the knowledge of what awaited her.
"Time for you to work your skills, sweetheart."
It was a struggle not to react to the goading tone in Klaus's voice, to only roll her eyes when she so desperately wished to tell him exactly where he could shove it.
Caroline walked down the steps with a calmness that she lacked, with a surety she wished she possessed. Saw the tombstone displayed in the centre bathed by light and shadow like a scene out of a fantasy movie.
She stepped closer to the stone, soaked up the carvings written on it, let the thing inside of her be.
Subtle and fleeting as it was to others, the magic was tangible to her. Beneath the spells etched to her bones to make her into a vampire was what made her different, what made her the creature the witches had lusted to create.
Caroline looked at these marks and saw stories of another lifetime, saw humans playing at being gods and a tragic love story that started it all. She heard heartfelt promises, and threats and angry curses in her ears. Felt the repercussions of what an action of two thousand years did to the world.
And most importantly she understood the key to unraveling it all.
If anyone had tried to discern what was written on the stone, they'd have seen meaningless words but her, she knew what to do.
"We're going to Rome.
The next part should be up in a day or two at most. In the mean time tell me your thought :)