what falls away
Author's note: Title taken from Theodore Roethke's "The Waking." The line reads "What falls away is always. And is near." This story is AU, but basically follows the show through season three, signficant departures from the show storyline begins with 3.20 "Do Not Go Gentle."
Originally posted in 2012 and now undergoing revisions – though I'm not sure anyone remembers this story as it has been so long. Thanks to my original beta Anastasia Dreams.
Side-ships: Stefan/Elena, Rebekah/Kol, hints of Klebekah
Summary: As a child, Caroline is told, "You will be loved by power. You will be greater than a queen." As for Klaus, Esther didn't tell him that his father is Loki, the god of mischief. When Klaroline's love is thwarted just as it begins, Caroline will do anything to get Klaus back. Even if that means involving Loki himself.
Preface
"Mightily wove they the web of fate …"
Sneru þær af afli örlögþáttu …
~ from Helgakviða Hundingsbana I, in the Poetic Edda, translated by Henry Adams Bellows
Fate is what the gods choose; destiny is what you choose to accept. That is what Rebekah had always known, learned growing up in an exiled Norse community, steeped in the pagan myths of their heritage and far, far away from the barely Christianised villages of her parents'childhood.
A simple cut of thread and all is lost. Her mother used to hold up each ragged edge away from the loom and savagely cut part away – as if to illustrate how very little power mortals possessed. Our lives are like the threads of this tapestry woven together, she used to say as she bent across the large, roughly-cut wooden loom, moving her daughter's hands over the shuttle. The human race is a beautiful tapestry, fragile, complex, and entirely dependent upon the weaver. Those are our Norns, weavers of our fate. They decide when our line will end.
She brought the shuttle down, almost savagely. "Don't ever tempt fate or anger the gods, Rebekah."
She wished her mother had taken heed of her own advice.
Prologue: a fortune told
A/N: Set when everyone is around 11 years old.
"Maid, not fair is all thy fortune …"
"Er-at þér at öllu, / alvitr, gefit"
~ from Helgakviða Hundingsbana I, in the Poetic Edda, translated by Henry Adams Bellows
Fate was a romantic term for the very young Caroline. She dreamed of a prince meant just for her, who would take her far away from boring old Mystic Falls. Even farther away than D.C. or Baltimore. Beyond the Atlantic. A beautiful castle and beautiful gowns and a beautiful prince who would love her forever. That was fate for Caroline. She knew it.
She was dreaming of just such a fate, twirling on the swing set of their junior high school. Imagining that her prince might be thinking of her too at that moment, thousands of miles away. At that moment, he bore the name Prince William. It didn't matter that she was only eleven years old and he was ages older. It could happen. One day.
She could totally pull off the role of Princess of Wales.
Bonnie and Elena were talking about the upcoming county fair of which she had no interest. Pigs and cows and pie-eating contests? No thank you.
"Don't you want to go at all, Care?" Bonnie asked, stopping Caroline mid-twirl. Bonnie was always stopping her twirls. Like, couldn't she just talk while she twirled? It certainly made Caroline's mind clearer.
"Not really. Same old rides and creepy workers. All that livestock. No, I'd rather go to King's Dominion. At least it has proper rides and Daddy said he would take us," she paused and smiled smugly. "He's feeling really bad about the divorce and gives me anything I want."
Her friends ignored that later train of thought. They had heard enough of Caroline's wiggling guilt gifts out her parents in the last year.
"We can go to King's any time," Elena said. "The fair is only once a year and everyone in school is going. Might be fun."
Caroline rolled her eyes. "You mean Matt Donovan is going."
Elena blushed and hid her face in her hair. Figured. With Elena, it was always about a boy. Though Matt was the cutest boy in their school, even if he did hang with that obnoxious Tyler Lockwood.
"Maybe," Elena half-admitted. "Anyway, Jeremy really wants to go."
"I know for a fact that a genuine fortune teller is setting a booth this year. I saw the sign on the way to school this morning," Bonnie said, obviously attempting to lure Caroline.
"How do you know that she is genuine?"
Bonnie frowned, a little defensively. "The sign was really cool."
"Well then, we must go, if the sign is really cool," Caroline snarked.
Bonnie ignored her. "It could be fun."
"Or it could be really dull and cheesy."
"Then it would be a good laugh," Elena countered.
"Maybe," Caroline conceded. "I don't know. Remember last year? Tyler and Jeremy got into some weird macho contest of how many times they could ride the Gravitron without puking? Yeah, I don't want to witness that again."
Bonnie and Elena fell into giggles.
"I had to throw away a perfectly good pair of shoes," Caroline protested sternly, before her lip quivered and she joined them giggling.
In the end, she did go to the fair with Bonnie and Elena. Mostly because she didn't want to go to King's by herself with her father. He'd spend half the time apologising and the other half trying to make her see that the split was not her fault. Really, she only had so much patience for that.
Besides, she was old enough to know that she was not the problem in that marriage.
She had to admit, the sign was really cool. A carved-wooden placard suspended by chain – just like those old shops at Williamsburg. It was painted in beautiful greens and blues, a lady's swirling arms holding up "Madame Skuld." Caroline snorted. As if that was a real name. She had to give her props for dramatic effort though. It certainly conjured images of doom and gloom.
If Caroline were a fortune teller, she would pick a glamourous, romantic name like Tatiana or Esmerelda or Ariel. Certainly not Skuld.
They left their tokens with the pimply-faced attendant standing at the door of the richly-embroidered tent. It was pretty impressive too. Like a king's tent from a movie set in the Middle Ages, Persian rugs and throw pillows everywhere and dim candlelight. In the middle stood a smallish-round table, covered in two or three cloths and a fringed piano throw. There was even a crystal ball resting on a gilt platform. Just like a movie. The Madame certainly knew how to set the scene.
She did not immediately appear and Caroline began to wonder if she would appear in puff of smoke just for the dramatic effect.
Instead, she simply came in by the back door. Like a regular person.
She did not look anything like Caroline thought a county fair fortune teller would look. She was neither old nor plump. She did not wear a turban or ridiculously large gold hoop earrings. She was very young with shiny chesnut hair braided into an elborate knot at her neck, and wore milky white moonstones in her ears and around her neck, and clothes of a vaguely hippy fashion – a long, flowy red skirt and black top, a black, beaded sarong tied around her waist that jingled like coins knocking against each other as she moved towards them. She looked like a heroine from the romance novels that Caroline stole from her grandmother's house.
She even carried herself like a princess, deliberate elegant steps, sternly upright carriage that Caroline's grandmother would have envied. Like a ballerina. But fiercer.
"Welcome," she said in a slightly accented voice. It was a beautiful accent, clipped notes that Caroline had never heard. "I am Madame Skuld, but you most tell me your names."
After following Bonnie and Elena around rides and games booths, stalking Matt Donovan, bitchy Caroline returned. "If you're, like, a real fortune teller, shouldn't you know?"
Cool grey eyes snapped towards her and the lady took a step nearer, curious and amused. Caroline held her head high, even though she was just a bit intimidated. The woman was scary.
"My dear, that is not a fortune told. It is your life's force that I read. Now tell me, what is your name?" Her tone was hard, as though she was used to deference and even though she admired the girl's pluck, she would brook no more insolence.
Really, quite absurd for a county fair fortune teller, Caroline thought. Still, she answered, "Caroline."
The lady smiled. "See? What that so hard? Manners should always be observed." She sounded just like Grandma Forbes. Bonnie and Elena followed suit, introducing themselves. "We shall sit now," she said, gesturing towards the table and taking a seat for herself.
The three girls followed, a little nervously. They had only expected a hokey bit of fun. Nothing like this strange young woman with her ancient airs. They looked at one another, and Elena nodded towards Caroline as if to suggest that she make the first move. She was the bold one to talk back after all. Caroline huffed and took the seat nearest the lady. If they were to be babies.
"You would like to go first, bold Caroline?" said the lady. She held out her hand, palm-up, resting it on the table. Her fresh, woodsy scent followed her movement. Not unpleasant if unusual.
"Yes she would," Bonnie prompted and pushed at Caroline's shoulder.
"Bonnie!" Caroline scolded, "ssh!" She turned back and defiantly held out her hand palm up, copying the Madame Skuld's gesture.
The lady grasped her hand, pulling it closer to her and ran a finger along Caroline's palm. Caroline started at the coldness unlike anything she had felt before on a person – even when she went skiiing with Jeremy and Elena in Colorado and wetted her mittens in a snow fight last year. She was almost frost-bitten and it hurt as the feeling came back. This was different. She couldn't explain why, but she shuddered as the Madame enclosed her hand in both her own and closed her eyes.
"W-what are you doing? A palm read?" she asked.
The grey eyes snapped open. "Not quite," was all she would say and closed her eyes again. Caroline glanced at her friends whose wide-eyed stares met her own. They must have felt it too. What if she was a serial killer? Liz was always telling Caroline to stay away from strangers. They could be serial killers. What if Caroline met her death simply because Elena wanted to stalk Matt Donovan?
Madame Skuld's eyes snapped open again, staring straight into Caroline's eyes. She tried to turn and tug her hand away, but the lady protested, "No, let me see your soul."
She was totally going to die in this tacky, overdone tent and it was all Elena's fault.
"Miss Caroline, what a world awaits you," Madame Skuld said.
Caroline's heart beat in her throat. "What do you mean?"
"You will be loved by power. You will go where none before was allowed. You will be greater than a queen."
"What?" Caroline asked again, her hand slack in the lady's grip.
"You must listen carefully."
How could she not listen after all that dramatics? Even if it wasn't true, it was something. It wasn't like the fortune teller at Coney Island that one time who was vague and saw "much happiness" and that Caroline's soul was like a sunbeam or some other nonsense. Everyone knew that Caroline was like a sunbeam. Her father told her all the time.
"His name is Niklaus, but you will know him as Klaus. He will come into your life like any terror you've dreamed. But he will be true and you will be steady and you will shake the earth for him."
Okay … that was scarily specific.
"What do you mean 'shake the earth'?" Caroline did not like the almost urgency in the woman's voice. It froze the blood in her veins.
"That my dear, I cannot tell you. These are things forbidden. But there is great sorrow for you and great love but you have a role to play in the fate of this realm. But you must trust me; in the future look back to this moment and trust me. Do you understand?"
"Are you for real?"
Madame Skuld smiled and released her. "I tell you what I see. Our fates are decided the moment we are born, bold Caroline. It is up to you to believe and to accept."
Well, that was just crazy. Who talked like that?
Caroline looked back at her friends who seemed just as stunned. Maybe that was just a bit overdone.
Unfortunately, Caroline said this aloud, and the fortune teller frowned in displeasure. She seemed to suck all the air out of the room with the furrow of her brow. "You'd do well to believe miss. I do not tangle with lives here. I tell truth and judge who are worthy."
What the hell?
"Who are you?" Bonnie asked, her voice shaking. She had grown up in stories of witches and Druids and rituals as though they had been fairy tales. But they had been truths once.
"I am Skuld. I am that which shall be. With my sisters Urðr and Verðandi, I rule the fates of humankind, of gods, and all supernatural creatures. Someday you will remember." She reached for Bonnie's hand. "You have such power, young one, and we have need of you. Someday you will break the barrier of what is and what was."
She turned to Elena with something like pity. "Love will tear you apart, my dear. Be careful with it."
Then, she rose up and seemed to draw power with her in the movement. Caroline couldn't move, could barely breathe. Her wits had all been scattered. Things like this just didn't happen. This woman was crazy, right? She had to be crazy.
Madame Skuld drew all their eyes into her sight at once, without the girls ever being aware of the movement. "You will remember one day. Unfortunately for you, it is not today."
With a grand sweep of her arm, the young woman disappeared, leaving in her wake a disheveled, bony older woman who sat down with a thud.
Caroline blinked and sat back in her chair, exhausted and bewildered. Like a fog had descended within the tent and seeped into her brain. Wasn't there something she should grasp while she could? But it was already beyond her reach, the last syllables slipping away, the impression less than vague. It evaporated before her like a plume of smoke, before she could even react and touch the vapours.
What had this little old woman to do with the uneasiness that settled into her young soul like some ancient weight?
She glanced at Bonnie, then Elena, and recognised the same confusion. "What did she just say?"
Elena answered, "I think she said that you would marry a prince."
A prince? That couldn't be right, could it? Still, not bad for a county fair fortune teller. Whatever, she wanted to get far away from this creepy, ratty tent.
Caroline turned back to the old lady and shook her hand with a strained smile. She swallowed a giggle as the woman's turbain was now lop-sided and in threat of falling right off. "It was really nice to meet you and thank you for the fortune. You might want to check your hair."
The teller nodded appreciatively, though she seemed befuddled as well. "Thank you, my dear," she patted the turban absent-mindedly. "I will."
Bonnie and Elena were already up and heading towards the entrance. Elena left a small tip for the lady who really seemed overcome. Caroline followed, but glanced back once more to see the teller shaking her head and pressing a hand to her heart. Poor dear, those long fair hours must be tough for someone her age.
"You were right, Caroline," Elena admitted once they were outside. "Completely bogus. We didn't get anything specific. She seemed kind of out of it."
"Yeah, like she had dementia or something," Caroline added.
"She said that you would get the boy your heart desired, Elena," Bonnie asserted, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and gestured towards Matt who was chasing Tyler Lockwood down the path of booths. They passed under a sign that now read "Madame Rosamond's Fortunes." It swung with the slight breeze that made gooseflesh prickle on Caroline's arms. That couldn't be right either, and neither could Elena's fortune.
The teller's words were curiously foggy already. She could only remember that she would be loved.
But there was something else, wasn't there?