Author's Note: I figured I should finally move this to this site after it's been lingering on Tumblr for who knows how long.
This whole fic basically toys with the idea of reincarnation (which I'm seeing more of on this site).
It was inspired by a fic already done by fadingtales both here and on Tumblr. Specifically a gif she made for her story.
I would also like to thank Thao for letting me basically taking her idea and running with it, and helping me with this fic along the way.
Please review to let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own or am in no way affiliated with The Vampire Diaries.
He scarcely would have believed in such a tale years ago, before he had known better. Who was he to fall for the same woman again and again throughout the years only to have her torn away? It made little sense, a mockery to his nature and his kind. A doppelganger often did not continue in life without some sort of magic guiding the way. But this would be different, he would later discover. She did not just resemble the original, she was the original. Reincarnation was the thing of legends and that was all. The possibility was too strange and unlikely and was left at that.
But he should have known that nature was a fickle thing. Unpredictable at best, miraculous when it chose to be, even if it denied the very simplistic guidelines set early on.
It started when he was still the weak, naïve little human, trying to please a father that did not care for him and prove his worth against a brother far more deserving of that affection. He could not have predicted the circumstance he found himself in so early on. Falling in love with another man's betrothed was unheard of. It was unjust, immoral and enough to create the most loathsome of men. He, though hardly perfect himself, had considered himself better than that, smarter than that, to allow himself to fall prey to such a situation. But that was where he ended up, that pining leaving the most uncomfortable of aches in his chest and knots in his stomach. And what made it all the worse was the resentment he began to feel for a brother who had everything he could not possess.
For Elijah had the approval of their father, the favoritism of their siblings, the admiration of their mother, the respect of the villagers, and the affection of a woman he truly deserved.
But that did not stop the jealousy from setting in or stop the loathing from spreading until he felt he might grow sick with it.
For who was he to be mad with envy and desire when he too found himself engaged to a woman of equal worth? A woman his parents approved of and cherished dearly. In some ways he believed he empathized with that emotion, but in other ways the idea of growing old and raising a family with her seemed unfathomable. And this, as much as he tried to fight it, only led to the despair he wished he could not feel. For he, a man who valued family more than he could express, would not be the one to ruin his brother's happiness. How could he? What right did he have to do such a vile thing?
But still, he could not help the longing and the stirring within him when she walked by. He could not blame Tatia for growing so distant with him. If he did not even deserve her why should he deserve the other? And perhaps he could not blame her for the looks she shot toward his brother under heavy lashes. No, not even then because it was something he held in common with her for once.
"Something is troubling her," his brother admitted to him one day as they watched the two women from afar. He had not been certain who Elijah had meant.
"Do you believe she is unhappy?" he asked instead of answering, brushing a rock against the blade he held to sharpen it. His eyes flickered toward the pair again before settling on Elijah and his deeply troubled expression.
"Yes," he Elijah replied without hesitation before turning and walking back to their home.
That must have been the first moment he ever truly spoke to her alone. Tatia had stepped aside, moving off to locate Rebekah and ask for her opinion concerning a new dress she was making. She was left alone, standing beside the large white oak, blue eyes trained above. There was a guarded smile tugging at her lips and he took note of the blonde curls that had escaped from her braid. He felt the muscles in his body tense when she suddenly turned, catching his gaze and holding him there. And her smile grew before she glanced away again, her eyes trained on a small bird hovering on a branch not far above her head.
"He is distraught," she seemed to say to no one in particular but he suspected the observation was meant for him.
"The bird?" he asked once recognizing the opportunity and choosing to take it. He moved forward until he was standing beside her and looking up at the tree as well.
"There was a nest here yesterday," she stated with a sad smile. "And another brown bird was beside it, protecting two little eggs."
"Where has the bird gone?"
"Your brother was practicing his archery."
"Elijah?" he asked a bit bewildered. Elijah had no need for such things.
"No, Henrik," she sighed. "The bird does not know where she has gone. He's looking for her, can't you see?"
"He will not find her," he replied without thought.
"No, he will not."
"He will find another bird and he can build another nest," he stated as if it was obvious.
"I do not believe it is ever that simple, Niklaus," she responded with a quick look in his direction and for a moment he did not hear her because he was not sure if she had ever said his name before.
"Why not?" he found himself asking instead.
"I believe that we cannot choose our own fates. Perhaps our whole lives are mapped out before us and we are simply pawns stumbling about as we obey," she said in a detached tone, her eyes now focused on the bird again though he suspected she was not really seeing it. "Our decisions may have been planned even if we are not aware of them now. Maybe we are only ever meant to truly love one person in our entire lives. We may move on, find someone new and try to fill that void in vain until we realize it will never be the same."
"You truly believe that?" he asked her and she only glanced back at him, smiled, and walked away to leave him staring there at that same bird and pondering her words.
He should have felt happy for his elder brother; there was no question of that. His mother was teary eyed, though she tried to hide it. His father was not beaming as Rebekah was, but he could see the mirth in his eyes. Elijah smiled with tight lips, as did his bride. For a moment he considered that he was the only one to truly see how unhappy they looked under the pretense.
She was smiling, a breathtaking sight no doubt. Her dress was a fine material that looked soft to the touch. Intricate details had been intertwined into the cloth with a careful hand. Her hair was gently curled and an arrangement of wild flowers was threaded into braids that wrapped around her head. She was beautiful, but even then such a word did not seem to be enough.
He found himself enamored with her every movement. The small curve of her lips when she smiled and the way her pitch spiked near the end of a laugh. It all suggested her hidden distaste. But she did not object, she knew her place and accepted it willingly.
But it made no difference to him. He could not stop that longing nor could he ignore the bile that built in his throat at the mere thought of them together. He could see it even if he wished to ignore it. It would all be consummated that night and he was powerless to stop it. He was powerless to stop the very rage that flowed through him at the thought of his brother even touching her in that way.
And how peculiar it was when he held no claim on her to begin with.
"Stop it, Nik," came the careful warning from his sister.
"Stop what, Bekah?" he asked simply because he could and he chuckled at the scowl on her face.
"Just be happy for him," she whispered, her hand patting his arm once.
"I am delighted for them," he snarled even when he had meant for the sentence to sound sincere. "I wish them many joyous years to come."
"You may wish to practice that line if you plan to inflict it on anyone else," she fired back with an arched brow and he rolled his eyes in response.
"Just leave me be, Rebekah."
"Do not put Tatia through this, Nik, and do not let Elijah see your behavior. Smile and greet them, greet her. Swallow your discomfort and put your feelings aside," she hissed so only the two of them could hear. "Be a man about it."
And his sister walked away with a smirk on her lips. He should have known. Rebekah always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking before he even did himself. But he had heard that displeasure in her tone. She did not approve. Of course not.
And why should she?
Things continued as normal as their lives often did. They fell into the familiar patterns. He helped Henrik with his archery, practiced his sword fighting with Elijah, tried without fulfilling to be deemed worthy by his father. He spent his afternoons walking with Tatia. He avoided his new sister (and how strange such a term seemed) at all costs.
He had been successful until the night the wolves tore into his little brother and he was left hovering over the mangled body. His sister and mother fell apart around him and Elijah stood nearby. His horror was not masked. But something clicked and he was helping Klaus stand, pulling him to his feet and dragging him away.
"He must not see you with him," his brother urged quietly as he dragged him further away from the scene.
And somehow Klaus understood exactly what he meant. He did not protest. He did not pull away either. He followed without making a sound, even when Elijah dragged him into the small home he had had been avoiding. She stood with wide eyes as she looked him over. He must look like such a mess, he realized dully. But he couldn't care. She was standing before him then, a hand on his cheek and her eyes were wet. He shuddered once and he could scarcely remember Elijah explaining it all to her. But her arms were around him and he felt her tears on his cheek.
His eyes met Elijah's but only for a brief moment before he looked away.
It was only the beginning.
The change happened days after Henry. Klaus thought nothing of it when she retired early, not joining them for a last cup of wine. His father hardly glanced at her. But he watched her leave. He made eye contact with Rebekah before they both tipped their glasses back.
He wondered if he was the only one to notice the taste.
He woke near Rebekah, shirt drenched in his own blood the night after, eyes unfocused and mind foggy. He could not concentrate. Had his father truly stabbed him? Or had that been a dream?
But he was soon shoved aside so that Rebekah could drink from a woman before her and Klaus found himself joining soon afterward.
It was later that evening when Klaus heard the shouting. He did not believe it, not at first. His brother and his wife hardly ever raised their voices at each other. But this was not an argument. This was a full-fledged fight. He cringed at the volume, knowing that he should not be listening. But he could not move away.
Until he heard the word child and he thought he might be sick.
In the following weeks he tried not to notice her growing stomach. He tried not to notice the way her eyes lit up as Rebekah embraced her new sister and the child within her. Amongst their own bit of horror she was a light. She kept things bright and warm. He found his eyes shifting back toward her as that great oak tree burned. Tatia hung back, leaning against a tree and watching the pair just as he had been. He found himself moving toward her and together they watched the couple until they embraced and he saw them kiss against the glow of the fire. He saw Tatia tense beside him and he felt the weight of her gaze.
"Niklaus-"
"I must go," he replied, feeling the vampiric features taking hold.
He was gone before she could blink. He couldn't fight the rage that suddenly swarmed over him. He was furious. At this curse, at her for being with Elijah, and at Elijah especially. And he knew it was not fair or deserved, but he felt a sickening wave as he thought of the child growing in her. His brother's child. It was something that he would never experience. He would never have a child of his own.
And he remembered little else because all he saw was red.
He could recall the taste of blood on his tongue and the soft pitter patter of a heartbeat before it faded to silence.
She was the one to find him after his first transformation. He had slipped out in the night, intent on finding prey when it began. When he opened his eyes he expected that pain to still be there. Instead he was met with a pair of wide blue eyes. Her lips were parted in a silent gasp before he felt a blanket settle around him. It was then, with the rough fabric against his skin that he realized his lack of clothing. But he didn't focus on it for long because he saw the dirt on his skin. He could smell the blood and she did gasp then.
"Your eyes," she cried out and then Elijah was there, pulling her back. And he could see Mikael behind them, turning on his mother, having connected the dots before the rest of them.
"You!" his father hissed at Estherbefore moving as if to strike her. He seemed to think better of it because his hand fell back to his side and he stormed off instead.
He saw Rebekah standing there with Tatia. She didn't know what to make of the situation. He didn't either.
But he didn't have to. His mother solved everything.
She disowned him, cast a spell to bind his werewolf side, and sacrificed his betrothed to seal it. He suspected she did it out of spite, to prove her side in that family. He felt guilty for Tatia's death, of course he did. But her heart never belonged to him nor his to her.
He murdered his mother in retaliation.
He regretted it, often thought of it as he sat in the dark. He could always feel the secret on his lips. It was a secret he dare not vocalize. He could not afford to lose the rest of his family.
And they fled from that village, trying to put as much distance between that old, not forgotten place.
But they could not run forever.
She was growing ill and Elijah forced them to stop, pleading for her sake because she would not do it herself.
Then that the time came and they all knew with that cry of pain. They had all watched as her health deteriorated before their very eyes.
"You can't," Elijah protested as Klaus brought his bleeding wrist to her lips.
"I must!" he argued, trying to get his brother to understand.
"The child," he whispered, not finishing his thought. But they both knew. Neither one knew how it would affect the baby.
"She will die," his voice cracked and it was all there before them. Elijah knew, he had always known of his feelings just as he had always known of his brother's feelings for Charlotte.
"Elijah," Rebekah spoke for the first time. "There is no other way."
And his brother hesitated before nodding and turning away. Klaus was there cradling her head and helping her drink.
She died hours later. They all heard her heart slow and stop. Just as they never heard the baby cry.
"A still born," the compelled midwife spoke from the edge of the bed.
And Elijah left the room, refusing to let his siblings see his grief. But they both heard the cry that sounded as if it was torn from his throat. Klaus did not speak at first. Rebekah hesitated before leaving to join Elijah. He could hear her hushed words of comfort.
"Take it away," he finally rasped to the midwife, his eyes never leaving her still frame.
She woke sometime later, gasping for air. And Klaus was there, holding the midwife out toward her, the throat torn open. She sank her teeth in the moment the blood touched her lips and he felt himself smile. She pulled away, fangs extended and stained crimson. He found himself focused on the blood on her lips. But she seemed to catch herself and the body was pushed away and she wiped at the blood, smearing it further.
"What have you done?" she snarled and her voice sounded raw.
"You were going to die," he replied, bewildered.
"Where is my baby?" she cried out, "Bring me my child, Niklaus!"
"The child did not survive."
Klaus turned to see Elijah at the doorway.
"W-what?" she croaked, "No, no, bring me my child, please."
"He did not live," Elijah stated, seemingly detached.
"A boy?"
And she did cry then. It was Elijah, not him, who moved forward to take her in his arms. He could not escape that cold look in her eyes.
He could not avoid her after that. She was always there wherever he happened to be. And her gaze never wavered from cold and disgusted. She blamed him for everything. And what chilled him was the way the light had faded from her eyes. She clung to Elijah out of grief, and treated Rebekah with brief words and smiles.
She often wandered off on her own, disappearing for hours at a time. His siblings never seemed to worry. She needed space, they would often say. But he worried. He would be the one to inevitably find her. He was the one to receive her fits of anger and harsh words.
She was the easy target. They were all young of course, but not nearly as reckless. He should not have been surprised the day Mikael showed up gripping her wrist tightly, her body pressed against his chest. She wasn't fighting. Her eyes were dull, her skin paler than usual and he could tell she hadn't fed in some time. Elijah and Rebekah were off hunting, he was left vulnerable and he was afraid, though he would never vocalize it.
"You may have fooled your mother, Niklaus, but you have not fooled me. Your love for Tatia was never true. She sacrificed the wrong woman when binding your curse. You ripped her heart out, so please allow me the same courtesy."
He did not have time to react. He barely had time to let the scream tear from his throat. He watched in a frozen haze as the man who had always hated him pulled her heart from her chest. He moved forward then, catching her just as she slumped to the ground. Mikael had fled, his form of torture in his grief having been completed. Klaus brushed her hair away from her face, whispering apologies and promises alike though she was no longer able to hear them. Her skin slipped to a dark shade, the veins protruded.
"Caroline, please," he choked out with a voice that trembled and he brushed his fingers against her cheek.
And that was how his siblings found him, covered in her blood.
"Are you so foolish as to care for her, Elijah?" he found himself asking his brother the night before he intended to lift the curse.
"Of course not," he replied a little too quickly.
"Love is a vampire's greatest weakness, Elijah. And we are not weak. We do not feel and we do not care."
"We did once," his brother pointed out and Klaus felt the muscles in his jaw twitch at the flash of memory he meant to erase. His brother was thinking of a similar time, he was certain of it.
"Too many lifetimes ago to matter," he corrected after a stressed moment. They did not bring up the past. It was an unspoken rule among them. "Tell the witches not to bother. The sacrifice will happen as planned."
Klaus turned to leave the room, pausing only when he reached the door. He could feel his mask slip and he allowed himself a small moment of grief where he could retreat from his façade. He was sure to let his emotion ebb away before he turned to face his brother again. Elijah was facing forward, seemingly indifferent, but he could see his shoulders slump in the smallest of movements. He pitied his brother. At times he suspected he lived in the past more than he himself did.
"Do not confuse her with Tatia, Elijah," Klaus sighed as if irritated though he was not. "They are not the same person. They merely share the same face."
His brother did not reply and he took that as his time to leave.
He seldom could have expected Katerina to make her own escape, fleeing with the help of that boy Trevor, who he should have killed when he caught the first fleeting glance he shot the brunette's way. Everything should have gone exactly as he had planned it. He made a game of it, making himself the lord that he never could have become. Elijah had played along, humoring him he imagined.
"What have you done?" he asked his brother as he approached.
"I do not understand," Elijah replied.
"Katerina is gone, she has fled."
"No," Elijah shook his head before standing, placing his book on the chair.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her nothing."
Klaus clenched his jaw before reacting quickly. He could feel that rage begin to overcome him. Before Elijah could blink he was shoved against a wall and his brother's hands were digging into his skin.
"Do not lie to me!" he roared and the blood flooded his eyes almost instantly. He could feel those spidery veins spread across his skin.
"I will find her," Elijah promised, his eyes never leaving his brothers. "You have my word."
"If you do not, I give you my word," Klaus began, his voice more even. "You will be dead."
He could feel that itch to retrieve a dagger and plunge it into his brother's chest. He did what he always did when he felt himself slipping. He fled, took off to find a human to take his aggression out on.
He just never expected to find her instead.
He found her in the next town over. At first he believed he was hallucinating, letting his anger completely influence his emotions. The possibility of her being here was unmanageable. More than that, there was no chance of it. He had been focused on her blonde curls, and he often found himself feeding on women that reminded him of her. He blamed her for her own death at times, but never more than he blamed himself.
"Caroline," he whispered just before she screamed.
When he returned she was in his arms. Elijah stood before him, eyes fixed on the frame he carried before settling on the gentle rise and fall of her chest that signaled her life. His eyes widened and he met his brother's gaze, discovering them to be filled with the questions he himself craved the answers to. Katerina was a distant thought, and Elijah was smart in not mentioning her name. The others were out looking for his doppelganger, he was certain of it. He only wished they would return her for the next full moon. He was itching to embrace that wolf within him again.
"Is it?"
"I do not know," he responded curtly, allowing himself to look down at her face. It was uncanny, the resemblance. But, then again, so was Katerina's.
"Is she a doppelganger as well?" Elijah found himself asking and Klaus placed her gently (and it was strange to do so in such a manner that he had not believed his still possessed) in the nearest armchair. Her head lulled to the side.
"Perhaps," Klaus shook his head for he was not in any way certain this was even happening. Her curls fell in disarray around her shoulders.
"Did you speak with her?" His brother asked and Klaus watched enviously as Elijah's fingers traced the skin of her cheek. He clenched his jaw when his thumb brushed against the corner of her lips.
"I did not get the chance," Klaus replied through clenched teeth and Elijah looked up to meet his steely gaze. A single brow was arched and he wanted to remind his brother of the dominance he now held over them all. But he held his tongue. When considering it all, Elijah had every right to learn every detail. She had been his wife after all. But with that logic Klaus would have been just as concerned with Katerina, and he obviously did not hold that feeling.
"She is human," Elijah noted and as he said it Klaus was reminded of the heartbeat he had been bewildered to locate at first.
"So is Katerina," Klaus replied, practically spitting the nuisance's name. Elijah spared him a glance and he could see the hardening in his eyes. He found himself fighting the urge to smirk. Even as a vampire his affections were obvious.
"There are men searching for her," Elijah was quick to point out. "I was planning to join them shortly before you returned."
"Will you stay?" he asked instead, his tone implying the presence of a threat.
"I will locate Katerina," his brother deflected the threat, but chose correctly. And Klaus smiled in response, eyes flickering back toward the chair.
"Very well," he chuckled.
"I will not disappoint you," Elijah moved toward the door, allowing one last look at their new guest.
"Do not make promises you can't insure you will keep," Klaus replied darkly and his brother nodded once before leaving the room.
She did not wake for another hour, an hour he spent simply watching her. He wondered if Elijah had studied Katerina this intently. For a brief moment he could understand his brother's infatuation with his doppelganger. He himself could feel bits of his humanity seep back in with her sitting before him now. He was reminded of his own speech earlier and the nuisance of love.
Then she groaned into the arm of the chair and he was before her instantly. He compelled her to keep silent before she had the chance to scream again.
"What is your name?"
"Caroline," she replied hazily. He wasn't sure if he stopped the surprise he felt become visible.
"Do you know who I am?"
She paused to study his face. He didn't want to watch. He wasn't sure if recognition or bewilderment would be worse.
"No," she sighed. "I believe I remember seeing someone similar before I woke up here. But that man surely must have been some form of evil."
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, his features were twisted into something demonic," she trailed off.
"I see."
"You seem to be far more kind."
He actually did laugh then. It was a harsh sound and she cringed away from it. How things had changed.
"You will not run," he stated and watched her compliance take hold. "You will remain here."
He chose not to speak to her for days after that. He arranged for her stay, he had others prepare her meals and find her lavish gowns. But he did not speak to her. He purposely ensured that he would not be in the corridor the same moment she entered. This frustrated her, he noticed. Others were forbidden to speak to her or approach her. He had made things perfectly clear regarding her treatment.
Mine, her presence said. She belongs to me.
He just wished she wouldn't look so sad in her loneliness.
When Elijah returned everything changed.
He brought news of Katerina Petrova and her deception. The discovery over her vampirism did not settle well with Klaus. He lost himself in a rage and left to quell the thirst it influenced. A village far off was left to his mercy and he insured that a particular family was left slaughtered.
When he returned he found her in cheerful spirits. Elijah had taken it upon himself to hear her laugh and see her smile. He found him with her in the garden and he was eerily reminded of a similar situation with Katerina.
"Hello, brother," he greeted coolly, a little disappointed that Elijah did not react as he once had.
"Niklaus," he replied in the same tone and their companion dipped into a curtsey, her head lowered.
"My Lord," she said shyly. "It is a relief to see you home safe. Your absence was noticed."
His brow arched and the corner of his lips lifted into a smirk. That was certainly bold. His blonde was blushing a delightful shade of pink and his eyes eventually found Elijah who met his stare head on. He could read the accusation in his eyes and in some way he was not surprised. She had been his brother's wife in another lifetime. If anyone held any claim on her now it should have been Elijah. But a lifetime ago was far too long and he was not the same sniveling human he had once been.
"I see my brother has been keeping you company," he said instead of vocalizing his thoughts.
"He has been very kind," she agreed with a smile. "He thought I might wish to see the gardens."
"Our guest does admire the sun and everything that blooms in its wake," Elijah stated, but Klaus heard the underlying message.
She is not meant to be kept in the dark.
"Does she now?"
"She seems to enjoy wildflowers in particular."
If he were human he would have paled. He was reminded of a time when she would go out with Rebekah to pick the ones that grew around their village and braid them into each other's hair.
"How nice," he sighed before turning to leave without another word.
"He thinks I'm foolish," he heard her whisper sadly to Elijah. "He would rather be alone than speak with me."
He wondered if he was meant to repeat that past he often wished to forget.
Each day she spent more time with Elijah and he could see their bond beginning to form. His jealousy overpowered him more often than not and he found himself locked in his room or out hunting because of it.
"She asks about you," Elijah stated nonchalantly one evening as he reviewed another old legend Klaus had created all those years ago.
"I cannot imagine why," Klaus replied feigning a bored tone.
"Perhaps if you actually took the time to speak to her you would realize that she cares about you more than she would ever willingly admit."
The sentence struck a chord and Klaus found a red filter clouding his eyes. When he managed to focus again his brother was pinned to a wall and Klaus discovered it was his hand wrapped around Elijah's throat. His brother did not look surprised, quite the opposite. Klaus tightened his grip in response, hating that look in his brother's eyes. He knew. He knew everything.
"Her memories are coming back in pieces," Elijah managed to croak out and Klaus instantly removed his hand.
"That is not possible," he hissed and Elijah gave him a pointed look.
"This entire situation hardly seems possible, Niklaus."
"What does she remember?"
"Perhaps you should try asking her yourself."
"Elijah," he growled and his brother only chuckled.
"She remembers small things. She remembers the white oak and the wildflowers in Rebekah's hair. She mentioned memories of two men who seem familiar, but she cannot place who they are," Elijah cleared his throat before continuing. "She believes they are merely dreams and nothing more."
He did not reply and perhaps that was for the best. A part of him wanted Caroline to live the life she had been robbed off, but here he was compelling her and hoarding her as she were jewelry that could be kept forever. Somewhere in his mind he recognized that his actions were wrong but he had grown more selfish in his afterlife. He would not lose her again.
"Then we will all dine together tonight."
"You don't eat, Niklaus," Elijah was quick to point out. While his brother would humor Caroline and enjoy a meal or two with her, Klaus hadn't touched human food since his heart stopped beating.
"She does."
When the time came he found he could not force himself to move toward the dining hall. He heard her enter, heard Elijah's greeting and apology for his brother's absence. He could hear the disappointed sigh slip past her lips and her hushed request to be excused. He didn't need to see Elijah to know that her request was accepted.
What did not hear was her approach until she was suddenly before him in the corridor. Her eyes were wet and when she caught sight of him she laughed a humorless sound before her expression seemed to crumble and she turned away before he could truly see her tears.
He dully recognized that one familiar persistent ache.
He did not go after her.
Perhaps that was his problem entirely and he would never admit that flaw to anyone. He had never been particularly strong when emotions got the better of him. His rage and his anger fueled him now but anything else seldom swayed his actions. He watched her retreat down the corridor, he watched her flee as quickly as she could to put distance between them. Somewhere he was able to recognize his own voice whisper coward as he watched her go. Perhaps he was a coward when it came to her.
"Well done, Niklaus."
He did not turn to face Elijah. He already knew what he would find. A smug look from his brother was the last thing he wanted to see at this moment.
He did what he seemed to do best these days. He tore into the throat of an unsuspecting human until the hunger, the thrill of the kill managed to black out all else.
But he couldn't escape her muffled cries as he passed her room. It would be his luck that her door opened the moment he turned away from it. He could hear her quiet voice as she spoke from the doorway. In that moment he couldn't see to force himself to move forward. It would have been so easy to walk away and deny every question she was yearning to ask, but then her hand was on his forearm, light and tentative.
"My Lord," she whispered and he could hear her silent plea.
"My Lady," he hissed. He expected her to pull her hand away immediately at his tone but she only gripped tighter.
"Caroline," she replied in the same tone.
"Remove your hand."
"My Lord, please," she began and he clenched his jaw.
"I said remove your hand," he snarled but did not wait for her action. He pulled his own arm free instead, causing her to stumble back.
"If you detest me so why keep me here?" she whimpered and paused as if to catch her breath. "I cannot leave but am refused the company of my captor."
"You are not without company," he replied with a low chuckle. "Elijah has kept you busy."
"But why keep me here?" she repeated with growing intensity. "I mean nothing to you so why keep me captive?"
"Is that what you think?" he roared before finally turning on her. Her blue eyes were wide and her expression unyielding. "You believe you mean so little yet here you are."
"I do not understand why!" she screamed right back and his fists were clenched at his side.
"You are here so that I can keep you safe!" he paused, watching as her expression cracked with confusion and he laughed, really laughed and clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away from her. "I cannot lose you again, Caroline."
"My Lord I—"
"Do not call me that!" he shouted before turning on her again. "Do not speak to me with that title when you and I both know it is entirely false."
"False?"
"Caroline," he breathed and moved forward until he was cupping her cheeks. His eyes fell to the blush now coloring her cheeks. He was losing himself entirely and yet he could not do a thing to stop. She didn't understand, she couldn't with memories she believed were not real. "You never knew and that was my deepest regret. I held you in my arms and you died right in front of me. I watched that life fade from your eyes just as I watched it ebb with every passing day until your death. Having you here again is unsettling and I cannot have that. You must understand, I am the reason you died. You are in danger every moment that you are near me."
"Please, I don't," she shook her head and broke eye contact. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," he breathed before pulling her towards him roughly and crashing his lips onto hers. Her cry of surprised was muffled. Her hands were pressed between them and he heard the small protest but he could not care because he had imagined a moment like this so many times in his past and here she was with the same blonde hair and blue eyes and she tasted exactly the way he knew she would.
"Don't," she whispered the moment he allowed her to pull away. "You can't do that."
"I can do whatever I please."
He knew it was the wrong thing to say, he knew the moment he watched her expression crumble. Whatever she had wanted him to say, that had not been it. She shook her head and stepped away from him completely, moving until she was firmly behind a locked door. It wasn't until he heard the lock click into place that he truly realized everything he had disclosed. He corrected his mistake by avoiding her entirely for a week. He did not see her, did not speak of her, but he could not prevent himself from thinking of her. Though he tried.
"She's trying to leave," Elijah alerted him the very moment he chose to leave his room.
"I compelled her to stay."
"She can't leave, but she is trying."
"It hardly matters," Klaus shrugged much to Elijah's obvious displeasure.
"Her memories have been fractured," Elijah stalled and Klaus made sure to keep his expression stoic. "Your stunt seems to have empowered their return."
"So she remembers everything then?"
"She remembers enough to reconsider her feelings toward you."
"Then go to her and be her knight in shining armor the way you once were," Klaus chuckled, patting his brother on the back before moving away from him. "Surely your company will calm her as it once did."
"She does not wish to speak to me," Elijah pointed out and noticed the moment it captured his brother's attention. "She asks for you but you will not go near her."
"I hardly believed it was my presence she craved."
"Yet it is you she asks for," Elijah said before mimicking the earlier gesture and clapping Klaus on the shoulder before retreating. "She's waiting in the corridor."
He stood there for a moment longer, waiting until she actually knocked on the door. A low growl slipped past his lips before he stepped out into the hall.
"I wish to leave."
"You are safe here, Caroline, there is no reason for you to leave."
"I wish to leave," she repeated stubbornly.
"You can't" he replied and he could feel his anger increasing.
"You cannot keep me here forever, My Lord," she sneered and Klaus turned away from her the moment he felt his fangs puncture his gums and the blood rush to his eyes.
"I cannot lose you again."
"I've already heard this speech," she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder to turn him but he held his ground, keeping his breathing even until he felt those features fade.
"You will not leave."
"I know that I won't!" she fired back, forcefully turning him around to face her. "I know that I won't leave, I know that I cannot leave and I don't understand why I cannot force my feet past a certain point. All I know is that you told me it is not an option and I'm obeying that order without knowing why."
"You've been compelled," he chuckled and stepped away before she hand a chance to raise her hand to strike him.
"Compelled to what?"
"To remain here of course," he grinned and he allowed that face he was trying so hard to hide to come into view. He watched with some sick fascination as she stumbled back, eyes wide with fear and mouth agape. "You won't ever be able to leave."
"You," she gasped and tried to stumble ever further away from him. "You are the same monster from before."
"Did you ever suspect anything different?"
"Stay away from me," she cried out, stepping backward even further until there was a substantial distance between them. Slowly his features shifted back to that of a more human nature. "You are not human."
"I was once," he replied and almost wanted to cringe at how it sounded. "Does my face really cause so much horror within you?"
"It is not your face that I glimpse such distortion," she said after a moment and her voice trembled. "It is in your soul."
"Who is to say that I even have such a thing?" he questioned and she shook her head. "If I am such a monster would my soul not be absent?"
"Do not come to me again," she hissed vehemently. "Not until you wish to let me leave."
She turned away from him completely and retreated to her room. He watches her until she can no longer be seen and even then he listens until her footsteps faded. Her words still echoed in his head long after her steps stilled.
She doesn't speak to him again for weeks. In many ways he does not view this as an issue. She is human and he does little to forget that fact. Humans are dispensable. They live and they grow old and they die. It was a basic fact. Their lives were short and filled with so little.
He does not acknowledge her. She begins to grow reclusive, asking for meals in her room and refusing all company, including his dear brother Elijah.
He thinks nothing of it.
Not at first.
Not until Elijah approaches him looking entirely sullen. Her meal had not been received. One of their house maids had knocked and grown frantic when she did not hear an answer. He listened with an unchanging expression as Elijah made sense of the maid's hysteria at discovering their house guest hanging from the rafters with her bed sheets linked together and secured around her throat.
"She's dead," Elijah stated, his gaze heavy against his brothers back. "She's in transition."
"What did you just say?" Klaus asked before turning to face him.
"I expected you to harm her in some way," Elijah began, his voice softening. "I was slipping my blood into her drinks as a precaution."
"You had no right," Klaus seethed and his fists were clenched at his sides.
"Nor did you by keeping her here," he paused, weighing his words. "She needs blood."
"She will not want it if she was so eager to end her own life."
"She will have more freedom as a vampire, Niklaus," Elijah reasoned, his eyes intent on his brothers. "Freedom was all she truly desired."
"Offer it to her," Klaus said after a moment. "But do not expect her to accept it."
He was in the same spot when Elijah returned. He did not allow himself any satisfaction at seeing his brother's clothes stained red.
"She will require a new maid." He did chuckle then and Elijah, though grim, allowed a smile to grace his lips before it slipped away as quickly as it came. "She will want to leave."
"She will not return," Klaus hissed stubbornly and Elijah nodded in agreement.
"Her life is immortal, she will return eventually."
He could not have predicted how right his brother would be.
He hears of her death a year after she flees from her prison. He had caught a glimpse of her the week before it happened. She did not see him but another had noticed his attention. He found her with a stake protruding from her chest. He ripped out the heart of the vampire who put it there in his grief. He did not allow his sorry to be known. Rebekah returned from her time spent with Kol shortly after the incident. He hated the way she looked at him after she discovered what had transpired in her absence. But she did not press further and for that he was thankful.
He spent centuries searching for his doppelganger, anxious for one to appear. He didn't encounter another Petrova but Caroline appeared again, quite frequently.
He approached her in Manchester and Rome. He watched from a distance in New York and Paris.
Each time, whether there was time spent together or not, she met her predictable end. Rebekah often tried to comfort him and Elijah kept his distance.
But he grew more selfish as time wore on. When he saw her again in Chicago he shoved the previous memories away and pursued her as only he could.
He couldn't imagine why he expected things to play out differently.
Nature truly was a fickle thing, unpredictable and unchangeable. The two things he hated the most.