Word of warning: this chapter is a bit different, in terms of me really exploring their characters more deeply. All stress aside, I wanted to see how they reacted in a different kind of situation(s) as you will see. A little self-conscious about this upload [regardless, I loved writing it], but let me know what you think! xx
10. Exist
"Forever is composed of nows."
- Emily Dickinson
Caroline didn't know how long light had filtered through the tall French window, fanning across her face in a dull shadow; nor did she know how long it took her to become aware of it. The pale winter sun offered no discomforting heat - instead, it was subtle, cold. Keeping her eyes closed another few moments, she stretched out in the bed, and nestled her head more deeply into the pillow, inhaling.
It didn't smell like her. Its scent was a clean, soft cotton and lavender.
Her eyes shot open, taking in the blues, greens and whites of the room in shock. For a very long moment, she couldn't comprehend where she was. To her left, through the large window, she spied greenery and deciduous trees, bare in the cool season weather. The windows themselves, where murky with cloud.
Rubbing her face with a hand, she reached out to the bedside table, searching for a glass of water - out of habit. Instead, her fingers found a small remote, with two buttons. One, she could see, controlled the lighting for the room. The second, however, she wasn't sure.
So, naturally, curiously, Caroline pressed it.
Sitting in silence for a few moments, there was rustling down the hall, before a knock sounded on her door.
Caroline's eyes swept left, right and centre before she replied warily, "Yes?"
It was a blonde woman, who wore black stockings, a short skirt and a long-sleeved gold silk blouse. To top it off she wore pumps - also black. She was pretty…but it was a 'tacky' pretty - not genuine beauty.
"Thank goodness you're awake - we were going to bring it down in ten minutes anyway, but considering you're up, and you buzzed the intercom…"
Caroline started as it all came back to her, and she comprehended. The night before - the bite, his return…her showering at his place because at her own she could not. Of course, it should have made sense; the tasteful room, French windows…maids. Not to mention, her dreams had been full of him - although that something that she would never, ever verbalise; it was something of a guilty pleasure - but, had been something consistent towards the end of her relationship with Tyler. Many a night she had woken, fitful when her head was full of him, instead of her boyfriend. Being in his house had strangely, only magnified that.
She shook her head, discarding her thoughts. "Who are you?"
"Silly, I'm a housemaid," the girl replied with a too-white smile. It then fell, when she registered Caroline's obvious confusion.. "…I had specific instructions to bring you breakfast, from Mr Mikaelson."
Caroline's eyes flickered to the maid's wrist. "I'm sorry, I don't drink-"
"Not from Niklaus, it was Elijah," the girl quickly corrected her. She motioned towards the ajar door, and a brunette entered, wearing the same attire. In her hands, she carried a tray with legs, which held a covered silver platter.
The blond vampire gawked, and she began to shake her head. "Surely-"
"He insisted; said you have had a very distressing twenty-four hours and that you'd take it in your room."
Caroline sat up straighter in her bed, and the brunette set down the tray over her thighs.
"Press that buzzer again if you need anything more," the blonde told her from the doorway.
Caroline pitied them; they were pretty, nice girls. Even if the blonde did have bad hair extensions and paid-for dentist teeth.
"Wait!" She called suddenly, mouth speaking before her mind could halt her.
The girl stopped, a frown creeping across her face. "Yes?"
"What were you doing, before you worked here?"
The two maids exchanged reluctant glances.
"Please," Caroline pressed, despite sensing their discomfort.
"Psychology Major," the brunette answered first.
The blonde looked to the floor. "I'd just started a course for Broadcast Journalism."
Caroline felt as though she'd been kicked; until that moment, she'd forgotten the aspiration of her old human self. She leant back into the headboard, disconcerted.
"May I ask why?" The brunette frowned.
"No particular reason…I just…." Caroline looked at her tray, and then back at them.
For a moment no one said, nor did anything, and an uneasy silence hung in the air.
That was, until Caroline registered a strange, rhythmic thundering in the distance. She listened in more carefully, her advanced senses kicking in.
"Where is Niklaus?" She asked the two. A strange tingle erupted in her chest, when she spoke his full name.
"Out riding, ma'am."
Caroline fought her eyebrows from rising. "Oh. Well, thank you for breakfast…that will be all for now." When they didn't really move, she added, "You're dismissed."
They left.
She took the lid off the platter. When she did, the most amazing aroma filled her nostrils. A perfectly cooked omelette, with chives sprinkled on top, and a side of fresh parsley, was centred on white china plate, with silver cutlery wrapped in a navy material napkin. There was also a small decanter of coffee - enough for cup, and another glass, full of orange juice. Caroline tackled that first, finishing the juice, and half a cup of coffee - and then unwrapped the knife and fork. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered with anticipation as she sliced a forkful, and devoured it in an instant, moaning at its flavour.
The thundering in the distance pursued.
Taking a few more mouthfuls, Caroline set the tray aside, and ventured to the bathroom, where she splashed her face with hot water from the basin. Drying it with a towel, she stared into the eyes of her own reflection. The v-neck cotton shirt she wore, left a bare view at her neck. Her fingers drifted to the smooth cream skin of her throat, lingering on her healed wound - besides a slight sensitivity beneath her touch, there was no other physical proof that it had ever existed. Sighing, she returned to her room, and took a bra from her bag, pulling it up beneath the baby-pink cotton of her shirt, and slipping her arms out, and through its straps, she clipped it into place. Next to her duffel lay her chestnut boots that she had worn the fateful night before. Pushing her foot through and zipping up each, she moved towards the far end of the room, where she opened one of the full length window-frame doors.
Stepping out onto the wet pavement covered in leaves, she closed the door behind her and followed a small path on to the frost-covered grass. The cold air bit at her skin, but she took no care to notice it - though she did look above fleetingly at the dark grey cloud overhead; prophesying rain. She inwardly hoped that the Mikaelson's had a big movie collection.
Moving through the garden - whose flora was not yet in bloom, given the season, but nonetheless, still pretty, she stared ahead through brushes and trees, to discover what she had come to investigate. Natural wood posts, greyed with weather, framed an arena with dark sand. In it, a black, athletic horse powered effortlessly, glorious mane flapping, its long tail trailing behind it like a ribbon of ebony.
A Friesian horse, she recalled, remembering having seen an animal just like it in a horse breeds book, when she was a child.
But it wasn't really the beautiful horse that caught her eye.
A thin, slightly regency styled shirt hung loosely from his body, battering in the wind as he cantered large circles. When he kicked his horse forward, she registered the hunt boots with their tan cuffs. The beige material of his breeches. As disoriented as she had been upon first waking, had she immediately stepped out of the bedroom, and witnessed the sight before her…she would have mistaken it for a dream. She could have been looking upon a scene of two-hundred years ago, for all she knew. Gravitating towards it, she stood behind a large shrub and peered through the branches.
Caroline watched in silent awe as his horse blew with each stride, the black tassels of its large hooves churning up the dark, grainy sand of the arena. She noticed how Klaus moved in unity with the animal's pace; it was as if he and the animal were connected. Her eyes followed the fluid movement of his body as it rocked, the relaxed manner in which he held the reins. He looked more at peace, and in his element than she had ever seen him.
It stirred an alien emotion within her. She stepped from her cover of the brush, and stood by an oak tree before the arena. Although she had been sure he had known of her presence before then, he certainly acknowledged it now. His eyes flickered to her person, and he smiled softly, before slowing to a trot, and directing the horse towards her.
Caroline walked up to the fence, and leant against it. "Nice shirt," she called. "You know, not sure whether you've noticed…but the turn of the century has passed," she teased, as he gently pulled on the reins, and his horse came to a halt before her.
His eyes narrowed playfully. "Which one? I have seen so many." When Caroline rolled her eyes at this, his expression fell genuine. "No…," he continued truthfully, "I prefer waring this" - he tugged on the loose material - "actually. They were always better designed for the comfort of a horseman."
"You look like a picture out of a period film," she laughed, eyes scanning his person. But all joking disappeared, when she commented sincerely, "Speaking of a horsemen…you have a lovely seat."
Klaus smiled broadly. "Was that an open compliment?" He collected the reins over the pommel of the saddle, slid both feet from the stirrups, and swung his right leg over his mount's back, before landing gracefully on two feet.
Inner competitiveness stirred within Caroline; it was just another thing he could do perfectly. "I don't know," she goaded. "Maybe."
He chuckled, and his gaze fell to the ground. "Did you sleep well?" He inquired with a certain tenderness.
Caroline's smile fell, and it was replaced with gentle gratitude. "I did…thank you," she murmured.
The corner of his lips tugged upwards, his blue eyes gazing down on her.
For a moment, she could not speak. She recovered from this however, when his horse snorted, making her jump. "He's beautiful." She nodded towards the black beauty. "What is his name?"
Klaus slapped the horse's neck affectionately. "Bertrando," he replied, with an Italian lilt.
Caroline reached out, and tentatively touched the horse's velvety muzzle. "What does that mean?"
The Original watched her ardently. "What, not laughing at it? Many would smirk and search for better means of conversation."
"Well, I'm not many," Caroline responded vaguely, staring into the dark eyes of his mount.
"No," he breathed. "You're not." Observing her a moment, he at last answered her question. "Bertrando means brilliant raven. Appropriate, given his coat, his air, and elegance…" Klaus trailed off.
She turned her gaze on him, when the horse began to chew the bit. "Have you finished?"
"Quite," he answered quickly. Embarrassed, he moved to lead the horse away.
"No," she righted him softly, making him halt. "I meant, had you finished riding him?"
Klaus smiled tentatively, and paused, deliberating something. "Would you like to have a ride?" He then offered. "You like horses, don't you?"
Caroline's eyes widened, stunned. "No, I can't…I-"
"It's alright. He may be a stallion, but a very gentle one at that; he won't hurt you," he assured her. "I'll lead you." He took her arm. "Come."
She stared down at his hand on her elbow. He pulled her gently under the single-bar fence.
"I can't," she laughed nervously, staring up at the big horse with subtle fear. "The last time I rode a horse I must have been about nine years old. And I'm not dressed appropriately." She stared down at her leggings, and her winter boots.
"On the contrary, I'd say very appropriately; your boots reach your knees, and have heel enough, and you're wearing stockings."
"Leggings," she corrected.
He rolled his eyes, and laughed.
She looked at both horse and rider warily.
"A vampire," he jested, shaking his head. "Afraid of riding a horse."
"I'm not afraid."
"You're nervous."
"Because I haven't ridden in years - and even then, hardly..."
He looked at her encouragingly. "But you've ridden before. I'd hedge my bets that you're naturally talented, anyway."
"Don't flatter me in the morning," she moaned, throwing her head back. "It has the absolute opposite effect." Her body shook with silent laughter.
"What is it?" He enquired.
She looked at him. "All this" - she motioned universally -"it's just…so…"
"Weird?" He supported, something in his eyes falling slightly.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't put my finger on it. I just…"
"Need to get on the horse." Klaus motioned towards Bertrando.
"I can't even remember how to mount."
"Excuses."
She pushed him, but it didn't unsteady his footing at all.
"Come here," he beckoned.
Something within, made the decision for her. She stepped forward.
Suddenly, his hands circled her waist, and in a moment, she was in the air, and then in the saddle.
"Whew," she exhaled, staring down at him. "Don't give me time to think about it, then."She startled to giggle.
"That's the whole idea," Klaus responded. "Put your feet in the stirrups," he then instructed.
She did as he asked, even though they were slightly long. Klaus took the horse by its bridle, looked up to her for a moment, and then walked, leading the noble steed with him. The great stallion fell into a smooth step alongside his owner, and Caroline could not conceal a smile. Holding the reins in one hand, she pressed a palm between Bertrando's withers and shoulder, feeling the great mechanical movement of his muscles beneath her hand.
"How long have you had him?" She wondered aloud.
"He would be about eight years old now."
Caroline's brow furrowed. "So…eight years then?"
"He is the son of one of my favourite mounts," Klaus explained. "I bred both myself."
"Where is he…she?"
"She," he confirmed. "Broke her leg five years ago. I had to put her down."
"I'm sorry," Caroline sympathised, face falling. "That must have been hard."
Klaus didn't turn to look at her. "I've had my fair share of dying pets. She was no different, favourite or not."
Caroline pulled on the reins. Bertrando stopped.
Klaus looked up at her in surprise.
"Don't do that," she said wistfully. "Don't…disconnect yourself like that."
"What ever could you mean?" He replied, although he knew very well.
She elaborated anyway. "Don't pretend you don't care. It only makes it more obvious that you do."
His jaw stiffened. "So either way, I am an emotional, open book," he inferred bitterly.
"Quite the opposite," she disagreed. "And I never said that. You're putting words into my mouth. Don't."
Klaus eyes dropped, and his head shook slightly.
Caroline nudged Bertrando's sides. He walked forward, as did Klaus.
They passed two laps of the arena in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, before Klaus pulled up the horse, and turned to face Caroline.
"What?" She questioned the curious look on his face, wondering whether he had more to say about their previous discussion.
He surprised her.
"Do you trust me?" He nearly whispered, tone husky.
Caroline felt her chest rise and fall more noticeably as she considered his question. Though she knew the answer the moment he spoke the question, she answered instead, very quietly, "You are not to be trusted." It wasn't nasty - and her design was certainly not so. She was trifling with him.
But his facial expression told her that he understood her intention. The corner of his mouth even lifted momentarily in a smirk. He reached towards the saddle, and took hold of her stirrup, staring up at her with a smouldering eye.
His fingers brushed against her leg, and she couldn't breathe.
Then he yanked the leather.
The stirrup unhooked.
He moved around to the other side of the horse, and did the same thing.
"What are you doing?" She uttered, staring down at her dangling legs.
Klaus slung the stirrup leathers over his shoulder. He led Bertrando into the centre of the arena, and let go of the reins. "Stay here," he ordered.
He then whisked away in a flash, disappearing with the speed only of a hybrid. Caroline looked after him. Seconds later, he returned; the stirrups were gone, and in its place, he held a very long rein of some sort, with a buckle attached to the end.
Caroline frowned. "What's that?"
Klaus clipped it onto the bridle. "A lunging rope," he responded, checking the girth of the saddle with one hand. "Now," he continued, meeting her eyes again. "Feet and knees pointing forward" - he took left her calf in his hand, and straightened it - "heels down. He ran his hand down to her toe, and directed her upwards.
"You're teaching me how to ride a horse?" She laughed.
He shushed her. "Back and shoulders relaxed - but don't hunch forward."
"So many rules," she remarked.
He gave her a look.
"Right, sorry," she apologised, biting her cheeks to prevent a smile.
"And I want you to have an even weight in your seat bones." His hand rested on the small of her back. "Feel…centred." His hand ran slowly to the top of her thigh, closest to the saddle.
"Klaus," she chastised, losing the function of her lungs once more.
He smirked. "Grip with the inside of your legs, not you knees." His hand away from her leg.
She let out an unsteady breath.
"You're holding your reins well," he observed, eying her hands. "Alright. We're ready." He offered her a small smile, and stepped back, extending the rope as he went. He clicked with his tongue, and Bertrando moved forward.
When they had made a full circle, Caroline rolled her eyes.
"Bored already?" Klaus challenged.
Caroline turned and pouted.
"Trot!" He called.
The great Friesian sprung into step.
Caroline bounced, and laughed. "I'm going to fall off!" She squeaked.
"You're a vampire, don't be so dramatic."
She gripped onto the saddle.
"Let go!" He ordered.
"I can't!"
He was laughing - wide smile, dimples and all. "Let go of all of it. Centre yourself."
"I can't!"
"Let go of the reins. Put your arms out, fingers out," he told her.
Biting her lip, she very slowly did so, and her back straightened.
"Close your eyes," Klaus called.
"No!" She panicked.
"Don't make me compel you," he warned.
Reluctantly, she did it.
"See? You're a natural," he complimented, "just as I suspected."
"Oh shush you. I did have like, one riding lesson. At a fair."
"At age nine. Very accomplished."
"Shut up."
Klaus laughed again. "Do you trust me?" He called.
She stuck her tongue out.
"Canter," he said. Though it was towards Bertrando.
By the time Caroline registered his call, the great horse beneath her was already away.
"No!" She laughed. "I'll-"
"Relax. Feel the horse beneath you." He slackened his hold on the lunging rein.
And she did. He watched as the moment consumed her - the way her seat deepened, and her back straightened without effort.
Then she started to laugh. Her eyes opened, and she stared ahead, the corners of her mouth lifting in the most beautiful smile.
And he knew. He hadn't ever loved her more than he did in that moment. He watched her rock backwards and forwards, her blonde hair framing her flushed, pink cheeks with deep admiration. She was stunning.
Three more circles passed, and he then tugged slightly on the rope. "Woah boy," he called. "Woah."
Bertrando slowed to a walk, and turned in towards Klaus, stopping when his forehead rested against his master's waiting hand. Klaus rubbed his horse's head, and looked up at Caroline.
"How was that?" He asked with gleeful pursed lips.
"Amazing," she breathed, laughing again. "I haven't…enjoyed anything so much, for so long, as I did that. I…"
"I know," he responded knowingly, eyes fervent.
Caroline closed her eyes briefly, and then gathered the reins at the pommel, mimicking his actions of before. She swung her right leg over the saddle, and slipped to the ground. When she swayed slightly, he steadied her with a hand. It rested in the same place it had the night before, however this time it did not grip - it barely touched her. She turned in his arm.
"Thank you, for that," she murmured, eyes flickering between his.
He looked down into them softly, face inching towards hers. He took her hand in his. "You're welcome."
Caroline exhaled, and her hand slipped away. She took Bertrando's bridle. "Now, where does this guy live?"
"You don't have to help," he told her. Though he wanted her to.
"I rode him too. It would be rude of me not to," she reasoned, staring into the eyes of the great animal.
"Right." He went to reach for the reins, but she moved inched them away from him. He chuckled. "You have to put them over his head, if you want to lead him, love."
"Of course." Caroline blushed, and did so.
"Follow me then."
- TVD -
Caroline leant against the stall door, as Klaus went to the rear of his stallion, clipping the stable rug into place. "Don't you have servants to do this all for you?" She piped.
Klaus straightened. "Once upon a time. I'm trying to cut down on the help."
Caroline remembered the girls, and the past hour with him was almost spoiled. "Perhaps you should hire more appropriately then." Her tone was thick with disapproval.
Klaus eyes clouded, troubled. "What's the matter?"
Caroline frowned, trying to put her thoughts into words. "Those girls - who served me breakfast this morning? They're not just…blood-bags. They're people, Klaus."
The hybrid's eyes darkened. "Don't trouble yourself with them, love."
"But they are people," she repeated slowly.
"You take an eager interest in them, then?"
"I was a blood-bag," she explained exasperatedly. "I was manipulated once - nearly killed. And it's not fair. If you want maids, then fine…but hire people who actually want to do it. Don't ruin the future of those young women just because they taste nice with a side of dessert." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Take the blonde one for example; she was just beginning a course in broadcast journalism-"
"I found her waitressing in a bar-"
"A college bar, I assume." She stood up straight. "Want to know something? Her and I aren't so dissimilar."
Something flared in Klaus' eyes. "Do not compare yourself to her, or anyone like it. Ever. Don't lower yourself, like that-"
"You say that," Caroline interrupted, "but I wanted to venture into the career of broadcast journalism, before everything happened to me. At one stage, I was human blood-bag. I mean, I was a desperate little-"
Klaus moved up to the door. "It's evident you prefer the person you are now, to the girl you once were," he cut her off, not wishing for her to demoralise herself. "So why trouble yourself into making connections with those girls? That blonde is of the dregs of society - aspiring broadcast journalist or not. For all you know the furthest she would have made it in the industry would have been fetching coffees and straightening biscuit platters for the five AM reporters."
"How can you be so insensitive?" Caroline grumbled, pushing off the door, and setting down the short aisle briskly.
"Caroline!" Klaus called after her, but she didn't stop.
He let himself out of the stall, locked it, and set after her. Getting in front of her, he pulled her up. "Both girls were penniless. I offered them the job without compulsion, and they accepted. Even if it meant that they had to put their careers on hold until they could afford it."
Caroline shook her head. "But they would have never made it back to their careers. You would have eaten them, by then." When he went to talk, she put a restraining hand out. "Don't." She brushed past him.
"What would you have me do, then?" He hailed.
She paused mid-step, and turned. "Give them their lives back."
"I can't make everyone happy for you." He sighed. "Every second person is going to have their own tale of woe, Caroline," he said tiredly. "If we listened to everyone's pity story, the world would be fair - but it's not."
She took a step towards him. "Have those girls got enough money to pay for their tuition yet?"
He shook his head.
"How good are their wages?"
He rolled his head back. "How wealthy do you think I am, love?" Rhetorical question.
"Too wealthy," she muttered, folding her arms across her chest. She paused. "You do pay them, don't you?"
He didn't say anything.
"Klaus!" She gasped in angry surprise. "You lied to me?"
"I never said that I paid them, and I give them money if ever they need it," he defended.
"That's not the same! How long have they been working here?"
"A couple of months. Why does it matter to you so much?"
"Because you can't do that to people!" She fired back. "You've just got stop being so-"
"So what?" He sneered, stepping in towards her.
"So…so repulsive! You don't have to be!"
"Why does it matter?"
"I'm trying to make you better!" She snapped, and then was taken aback, when she realised what she had just said.
"How?" He enjoined. "I'm pure evil, aren't I? You think so. Everyone else, thinks so."
"People's opinions aren't what makes the person. You don't have to be this way," she argued heatedly. "The way you are - it's a choice. You may have grown into it, but it's a habit you can break. You don't have to lash out. There is humanity in you and I know it's there!" She took a deep, composing breath. "I've seen it."
"What of it, then?" He demanded through his teeth. "Do you see into my deep, wounded soul with hopes of healing it?"
"I can't heal it," she admitted plainly, which visibly made him still with shock. "And I get the feeling that even if I would, you wouldn't want me to. But you saved my life, last night. I'm just returning the favour."
"There is no debt," he murmured. She still doesn't get it, he thought frustratedly.
She looked out towards the arena. "You say that, but I don't feel that way. I feel indebted," she reasoned. "Because I know that you're not living. You've spent the last thousand just existing." Subconsciously, she took a step towards him. "As your friend - as you decided last night - let me help you."
His blue eyes were a layer thicker with moisture. "What makes you so sure that I'm worth it?"
Her hands dropped by her sides. "I've caught myself wishing that I could forget, all the horrible things that you've done; granted, it would be much easier if you hadn't, and won't commit them at all, but I know that that's just a part of your character that we'll have to live with," she answered. "And as much as I may have been repulsed by you, in the past...there's goodness, in you."
"Who's the 'we'?" Klaus singled out, slightly crestfallen that it wasn't only she, but curious as to who else had hope for him.
The first droplet from the dark grey clouds overhead splattered on the ground beside them.
"Stefan and I, and you," Caroline replied easily. "He's more connected to you, than I'll ever be. You two were really close, once upon a time, and he was friends with you, for a reason." The next few raindrops hit them. "Sometimes, I think he still tries to look for that reason, despite everything you've done - even if you yourself believe that you're a lost cause."
Klaus turned his head to the side in interest. "Where does your sudden security in me, founder from?"
Caroline looked up to the sky that she had studied so briefly before, as more and more rain fell.
"It's nothing sudden," she revealed, looking back down, and at him again. "Stefan is a good person. I think I probably trust his opinion over anyone else's. Even my own. So, if he sees something in you worth fighting for, then I see reason. It's not without purpose."
"So nothing comes from you alone, then?" He surmised, despondent. He turned on his heel, towards the stables again, as the raindrops began to fall in sheets
"Where are you going?" It was her turn to follow him.
"I haven't finished," he answered, striding ahead.
"Neither have I!" She jogged to keep in stride with him, deciding against using speed; he could have run faster. Or worse - disappeared all together.
Which, admittedly and most of all, she feared the most.
"Klaus."
He didn't halt.
"Klaus." She yanked his arm as they came to the doorway.
"We're friends, you say?" He turned a hard eye on her, leaning in close. "Yet you still rely on someone else's good opinion. Why can't you have one of your own?" He moved to go again.
She held onto his arm tightly. "I do."
The rain began to bucket down, hitting the ground with such force it began to sweep into the stables.
Klaus and Caroline broke out of their trance of anger, momentarily.
"Get the other door," he told her, as he moved to pull in one.
She obliged him.
The heavy doors clicked closed.
Klaus watched her for split second, but then immediately moved towards the feed room. Taking two buckets, he moved to the metal bins, and began filling them with chaff and pellets. His actions were mechanic, irritated.
Caroline leant across the door frame, arms folded.
When he finished with the bins, he sat them on a small table, and took two containers and a bottle from a shelf. When he opened the lids, Caroline smelt garlic, and linseed. He divvied a cup of each into both buckets, and then opened the lid of the bottle.
"What's that?" She asked, in effort to spark some conversation from him.
"A molasses-based supplement," he replied shortly. After putting some in each, he took both buckets in hand, and brushed past Caroline. Entering Bertrando's stall, he sat the bucket in holder designed for it. Quitting that stall, he ventured across the hall to a big, bay horse.
Caroline had spied him on the way in, but she'd been too busy playing with Klaus' horse.
"Who does this one belong to?" She asked. "Is he another of yours?"
"Elijah's."
"What's his name?"
"Hugo." Klaus set the bucket down, and ran his hand along the horse's neck when it buried it's head in its food.
"What breed?"
"Thoroughbred." Klaus shut the stable door.
"Is he a stallion too?"
"No." He set off down the aisle.
"How do you find time to feed them - in between everything else?"
Klaus opened one of the doors, and peered outside.
The rain had lightened off.
He set out, and she followed, slamming the door behind her.
He had no reason to hasten - he enjoyed the rain."As with many things - about a week ago I had help," he finally answered, as they headed towards the house.
Caroline halted in the garden, frustrated. "Do you blame me, for that? Are you secretly still holding a grudge against me, or something?"
Klaus turned and stormed the few steps back towards her. "All I had worked for in a thousand years was torn down in the space of a couple of months by your boyfriend. All because of his hatred, jealousy and contempt." He turned once more. "I can understand you may have ambitions for yourself, but imagine your sole purpose for a millennium being torn away from you by an ignorant boy who has seen nothing but eighteen years."
Caroline caught up to him, but stopped again under the bare branches of a jacaranda tree when a thought dawned on her. "Is that what you think of me then?"
He whipped around. "You know that's not what-"
"How am I any different?" She swallowed at a growing lump in her throat - but it was already making her hoarse. "I've seen nothing more than eighteen summers. I don't know anything of the world." She wrapped arms around the damp cotton clinging to her torso, and inhaled unsteadily. "What makes me so different? I'm just as naïve."
"You still don't understand, do you?" He shook his head, and went to move again.
"Tell me how I don't! Because all I get from you are vague, hollow arguments that I can't make any sense or reason from," she yelled, cracking. "I get that you just vent because you're hurt, and I am reaching out to you despite all of this...but you still can't go out of your way to empathise - let alone at least explain why you can't!" She clawed her head with hard fingers. "God. I mean, how quickly do you forget that he betrayed me too? You're not the only one struggling with yourself." She choked, and her arms dropped. "And I am trying, with you. I am."
He stepped towards her, face still with sadness. "Caroline."
She moved back, hands in front of her. "Everything for me is screwed. I have a two day leave pass, and if I don't go they'll kill my Mom." Her palms flattened on her abdomen. "I can't deal with this. Not a second that goes by, there isn't a nagging sensation of paranoia that I'm being watched; I feel like a ticking time bomb. Tyler is about to flick the switch on his humanity, which means that he'll feel no remorse, and then he'll kill Mom, and I just…" - she covered her face with her hands - "I don't have my Dad to tell me what to do anymore. One of my best friends is obsessed with magic and the other is about to slip off the rails…I don't have anybody to help, and I just need someone to tell me what do," she cried, breaking.
The whole time she had spoken, he had been edging towards her, but she hadn't noticed, until strong arms enveloped her frame, pulling her to his chest. He cradled her head against his already soaked shirt, stroking her mattered locks.
"You were right," she continued tearily against his chest. "I'm just pathetic-"
"I never said that you were pathetic."
"But you said that I was a scared vampire."
"It was a joke, love, appropriate to your behaviour towards getting on a horse."
"But it's true. I'm no better than I was when I was human."
"No," he disagreed, holding her at arms length, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Because I wouldn't have cared for that girl. Granted, there are aspects of her, that I see in you - but they're only the important things that ever existed. Everything else about that personality, is nonessential and gone." His right hand went to her neck, and his gaze became more direct. "And you have every right to be scared of your own shadow, at the moment, love. You've had quite a fright." His sad eyes encouraged her.
She stared at him a moment, before her eyes shifted past his head, towards the house. She took her arm back, and moved away from his hold. Rubbing the rainwater from her brow - though it was useless - she turned back to him, and went to say something, but overhead the sky let out a thundering crack, and she faltered.
"Inside," was all he said.
She didn't argue.
A/N: Guess this was the KC comfort scene from 4x17 that we missed out on...then ;) I wanted him to be able to comfort her. She's conflicted, and she's trying to figure herself out, but she's also doubting herself a bit (for her poor judgement of Tyler's character [he tried to kill her]) and Klaus will be fundamental in re-instilling her self worth, so hence the, "Forever is composed of nows" quote ;)
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